PERILOUS TROPICAL ROAD RALLY
by GoldAngel2
Summary: Here's the requested sequel to "The Alpha"--I have it as Action/Adventure for the racing but there's quite a bit of romance-Thanks Jen & Oriana
1. Default Chapter

Authors note: Here's the requested sequel to "The Alpha: A Speed Racer Prologue. I have done as before put this in the 1960's because that's where Speed Racer was originally with dialogue and scenes based on popular culture of the 60's. I've been watching the old episodes to especially get the dialogue. I also made this with racing action and language from my fandom in NASCAR. I don't own the characters, Speed Racer Enterprises and DIC do.  
  
PERILOUS TROPICAL ROAD RALLY  
  
Part 1-CLOSE CALL  
  
The blue helicopter was a black speck in the tropical blue sky above the southern coastal resort town of Raytona, whirring above the community like an oblong top, making rounds back and forth. The shimmering azure of the ocean lined the road that would be the course of the Raytona Road Rally that was a pre-season race for Formula 1 drivers. And being such, the small resort town was teeming with drivers, their crews, families and friends, not to mention the media and fans in town, causing the small community's population to swell to nearly double its size. Local motels, hotels and inns were full to capacity and the streets were choking with traffic. But the two occupants of the whirlybird were making observations on something other than traffic tie-ups from the lower stratosphere. An attractive black haired young man was busily jotting notes as the pilot, a delicately pretty young woman with a chestnut brown bob concentrated on the task of flying the craft.  
  
"Let's try the north section of the road course, Trixie. I need to see the terrain a little bit closer to get an idea of what kind of road conditions I'll be facing," Speed Racer, the youthful yet talented Formula 1 racecar driver directed.  
  
"Okay, Speed. I'll head right over there," Trixie Shimura, spotter of Pops Motors Go Racing Team responded, banking the craft and flying north.  
  
The chopper flew across the northern area of the resort town and followed a route that headed into a relatively unpopulated stretch of land that had a road snaking through it. Speed peered down through a pair of binoculars, and then put them down while he made more notes.  
  
Trixie glanced over at Speed as he scribbled his notations. "You getting the information you need or do you want me to go closer?"  
  
"Lower us a little, okay? I want to see exactly what type of road this course is." At his request, Trixie pulled back on the rudder and the craft lowered to about 1500 feet. He commanded, "That's great right there. Now take us the length of the road."  
  
Trixie accelerated gradually as she followed the road. Speed watched the ground intently, making quick notations on a pad on his lap and on a map. They eventually came to the landmark signifying the turnaround point to head back to Raytona and the track where the finish line would be.  
  
Trixie hovered above the landmark as Speed continued his writing. He looked at her and grinned when he finished. "I think that'll do it for now, Trix. We can head back to the track now."  
  
"You sure? We can go over it again if you want, Speed."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks Trix," Speed said, as his cobalt blue eyes twinkled, squeezing her hand on the rudder. His hand remained compassed on hers as she guided the helicopter back up.  
  
"Okay, here we go." She banked and headed back towards the town. "Whew, that looks like quite a course down there," she commented as she observed the winding road that followed the coastline.  
  
"Yeah, but I've seen worse. The road course of this rally is really diverse, from ocean side to inland, but you know me, I love a challenge."  
  
Trixie smiled fondly at him. "You sure do. And I can't think of anyone better to meet it." Speed returned the smile as he took his other hand and gently ran his fingers on her cheek. She playfully slapped his hand away and admonished, "You better not do that, I've got to get us back on terra firma, so for the time being Mr. Racer, keep the round-the-world moves to yourself."  
  
"Round-the-world moves?" Speed inquired, sapphire eyes wide, all innocence.  
  
"Yeah," Trixie retorted. "Rushin' hands and roamin' fingers."  
  
Speed threw his head back and guffawed heartily. "That's a good one, Trix."  
  
Trixie looked at him and giggled, "I have my moments."  
  
They headed back to the track, following the main highway on the road below but as they reached the halfway point another helicopter appeared as a black dot out of nowhere, and speeded towards them on an apparent head-on collision course. Her eyes widened in alarm as she spotted the rapidly approaching aircraft.  
  
"Trixie, look out!" Speed barked as he too spotted the other craft headed straight for them. With a horrified look and her pilot's natural reflexes, she pulled the rudder to the right, just missing the other chopper. "Hey, what the hell's that guy's problem. He almost crashed right into us!" Speed snapped as he turned in his seat and watched the other craft gradually disappear behind as mysteriously as it appeared.  
  
"Wow, talk about your Sunday drivers. I didn't think we'd have to worry about his type up here," he said as he turned to face the front. He glanced over at Trixie and praised, "Good flying, Trix."  
  
Trixie said nothing, pale and still obviously shook by the incident. She gripped the rudder hard, her knuckles whitening from the pressure. Speed glanced at her in concern. "Are you okay, honey? Trixie? Trixie!"  
  
Trixie remained silent, her sea green eyes trained straight ahead, with a determined glint that appeared somewhat glazed. Speed watched her, his brow furrowed in worry as wordlessly she flew the craft the rest of the way back to the Raytona track airfield. She hovered above the tarmac and gradually lowered the helicopter to the ground whereupon touching down, she cut the motor, and unbuckled her belt as she laid her head back against the headrest with her eyes closed. Her heart still pounding, she took several deep breaths to collect herself.  
  
Speed studied her uncertainly, not knowing what to do or say. He shook her shoulders gently in an urgent attempt to snap her out of it. "Trixie, we've landed now. Let's get out of here, okay?" he said softly, taking her hands and prying them from the death grip on the rudder she still maintained. He was shocked by how they felt like two blocks of trembling ice; she was really freaked. "C'mon Trix, you're scaring me. Talk to me, please," he begged.  
  
Trixie opened her eyes and gazed at Speed. A tear trickled down from one eye as she whispered, "Oh Speed."  
  
He took her in his arms, stroking her head as he held it to his, his cheek pressed against hers, "Hush baby, it's okay. Everything's all right, we're on the ground now."  
  
"How'd we get here?" Trixie asked numbly.  
  
Speed pulled his head back to study her. "Don't you remember? You flew us here."  
  
Trixie eyed him incredulously. "I did?"  
  
Speed nodded, "Uh-huh. You handle the air power, I handle the land power, remember?"  
  
"I guess I must've zoned out," Trixie tried to giggle but it came out as a frightened yelp. "I could've killed us," she cried out, the stark realization hitting her.  
  
Speed pulled her into him closer. "Let's just stay here for a moment so you can calm down, okay?" He tightened his arms around her and he felt her fear as she leaned against him, still shivering. Trixie went limp against him, letting his strength envelop her.  
  
They were in that comforting position for an indeterminate period of time when Speed's younger brother Spritle who, with his faithful monkey companion Chim Chim, yanked open the door and joined the couple interrupting their quiet time. "Hey Speedy, Trixie! Are you gonna stay in here all day?"  
  
Speed sighed impatiently, "Look, Spritle, do you mind? Trixie wasn't feeling good for a moment so we stayed in here. Why don't you go find Pops? It's almost time for dinner." He removed his arms from Trixie and shooed his protesting little brother away from the helicopter. Once he got the boy out he closed and locked the door and turned back to his girlfriend who had again joined the living and begun composing herself.  
  
"Feeling better?" Speed asked solicitously.  
  
"Uh-huh. I'm sorry, Speed, I don't usually flip out like that. Thank goodness we got back here in one piece." Trixie shook her head in self- recrimination.  
  
"Hey, you did great, really. I'm impressed, I don't know how I'd have handled that. Fantastic."  
  
Trixie smiled wryly, "I guess I'm like you are in the Mach 5 when I'm up in the air. I just focus."  
  
Speed grinned at her. "Yeah, like two peas in a pod." He looped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. She reached around his torso and squeezed back.  
  
Trixie shook her head as she began to feel normal. She glanced quizzically at Speed and asked, "Do you think that it was Wiley and the Alpha Team up there who almost hit us?"  
  
Speed shook his head. "I don't know who else. It appears he's certainly persistent, and he stands by his word." His eyes narrowed to cobalt slits, as he became enraged by the mere thought.  
  
Trixie shuddered as she reached for the note in her pants pocket. "You're right, Speed I'm afraid he meant just what he said." She held the note in her hand and Speed leaned over as they both perused through it.  
  
Miss Shimura,  
  
I regret to inform you that the decision you made concerning my offer  
has disappointed me deeply and I feel that it leaves me no other  
alternative but to do all in my power to defeat and destroy you and  
the Go Team.  
Don't contact the police, it will only bring about dire consequences  
for you both.  
  
Wiley  
  
"Will I ever get over what happened, Speed? Will this ever end?" Trixie asked in quiet misery, taking the note and folding it before shoving it back into her pants pocket. "I can't even tell Inspector Detector, who knows what that madman will do."  
  
Speed gritted his teeth as he was filled with a cold, murderous fury. He slammed a fist against the side of the chopper's interior in frustration. "Damn him straight to hell. I'd like to tear him apart," he snarled.  
  
Trixie sighed, "My sentiments exactly. But that will only get us disqualified from the race and thrown in the slammer. There's no concrete evidence that points to him as the force behind my attack. For all intents and purposes, he's just the owner of the Alpha Team"  
  
It was the truth, for the investigation into Trixie's attack two weeks ago had been short and turned up nothing more than her assailant, Slyme Balle being charged for assault with intent to kill. Also true was the fact that he was cooling his heels in the local jail, but his confession had done nothing more than place all the evidence to implicate him. His desperate attempt to include Wiley in the charge was discounted by Sy Shyster, Wiley's attorney, who produced solid proof that convincingly disassociated him with Balle. Inspector Detector had kept her informed of the legal wrangling that had taken place, much to her and the Racers' dismay. The document that her late father, Michael Shimura, had signed was declared null and void due to it not being notarized prior to his death. So everything had met a proverbial dead end. So resigned, Trixie had let go of the situation until she received the note in her mailbox just as she had been preparing to leave for Raytona with Speed and the Go Team. When she opened and read the note, in a panic she had phoned Speed immediately.  
  
Flashback:  
  
Over the phone, Trixie had just finished reading the note from Wiley to Speed. "Speed, I'm scared. For me, you, and the whole team. Maybe you ought to find someone else to be your spotter for the Raytona Road Rally. It'd be safer."  
  
"Are you kidding, Trixie? No way am I gonna let this lowlife SOB Wiley intimidate me and if he tries to send another stooge to try to hurt you again, I will end up in the slammer 'cause I'll kill him."  
  
"But I have to think about the good of the team, Speed. Plus, I'd never forgive myself if something terrible happened to the team, you or your family because of me. Maybe getting involved with me and hiring me was a big mistake," she had sobbed, deeply distressed.  
  
"Hey now stop that," Speed admonished gently. "Hiring you was the best thing Pops ever did and meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Before you came along, I only cared about racing, everything else was a blur. Now there are two things important to me, racing and you. I'd be lost without you, angel."  
  
"Oh Speed, are you sure? I mean I want to work on the team but--"  
  
"Look, Trixie you can try to convince me all you want to let you drop out of the team and my life but I hate to tell ya it isn't gonna happen. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me, honey, so deal with it," Speed said, digging his heels in.  
  
"Okay. But you realize you're doing this at your own risk." Trixie had acquiesced.  
  
Speed chuckled, "I'll take my chances. Besides, I love to live dangerously. I race cars for a living, remember?"  
  
End Flashback  
  
There was a knock on the helicopter hatch. With a sigh, Speed unlocked the hatch. "Looks like nobody's gonna leave us alone." He opened the chopper and Sparky Sabu, his best friend and crew chief peeked in.  
  
"Hey you guys. You comin' out or you gonna spend the night in there?"  
  
Speed replied, "Now that's not a bad idea." He leered and winked at Trixie who blushed and slapped his arm.  
  
"Now, now come on, you two. You know tonight's the big welcome dinner dance for the rally drivers and the press is just dying to interview the wonder boy of the racing world, Speed Racer," Sparky reminded him.  
  
Speed groaned, "Don't remind me. I wish there was some way to ditch them and not make an appearance but the publicity for Pops Motors will be outtasight." He grinned at Trixie. "Besides, I can't wait to see you in that new mini-dress you bought last week. You've been keeping it under heavy wraps."  
  
She responded, "Yes I have and it'll be well worth the wait."  
  
"Well, then let's go get ready for the festivities, shall we?" He slid out of the craft and offered his hand to Trixie to assist her as she followed suit.  
  
Still holding Trixie's hand, Speed turned to Sparky. "Hey, Spark, your gonna come too aren't ya? There'll be plenty of chicks there I bet. The groupies will be out in force."  
  
"Yeah but they aren't interested in me, pal. It's you they'll be flocking to," Sparky said matter-of-factly as Trixie glared at him.  
  
Speed caught her jealous response and felt a thrill inside. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Well then, they'll just have to settle for my mechanic. 'Cause I'm spoken for," he said easily as he slipped his arm around Trixie's waist.  
  
They all headed for the Pops Motorsports trailer in the late afternoon sun to prepare for the evening ahead. 


	2. Part 2 TROUBLE AT THE PRESS PARTY

Part 2-PROBLEMS AT THE PRESS PARTY  
  
The sleek white race car with the "M" on the hood and "5" on the door shone like quicksilver as it traveled along, bathed in the light of the full moon that stood sentinel over the beach road. This was the road that led to the exclusive club where the soirée for the Formula 1 drivers was being held. Speed and Trixie were heading over there with somewhat mixed feelings for the event was basically a press junket to satisfy the hordes of media who were covering the event.  
  
Speed was inundated with trepidation about the event and had good reason. As the youngest and most talented of the drivers on the circuit, he had become fodder for the members of the press corps and he felt increasingly ambivalent about facing them. His on and off track activities had been front page material for various gossip tabloids that had him pegged as a playboy racer. And his former ladyloves had been only too happy to promote that view of him based on his ending his relationships with them. He had seriously considered blowing the party off and taking Trixie out to a quiet dinner but after talking to Pops, he grudgingly agreed to make an appearance with Trixie on his arm to alter his reputation and promote Pops' business.  
  
Speed swung the Mach 5 into the driveway that led to the crowded parking lot for the Seacoast Beach Club and he pulled into an empty space adjacent to the side of the building closest to the beach. The place was festooned with brightly colored Japanese lanterns, swinging in the gentle sea breeze and music sprinkled with laughter wafted over to Speed and Trixie's ears.  
  
"Sounds like quite a clambake's going on," Speed commented as he cut the motor and killed the lights.  
  
"Uh-huh," Trixie answered. "And from the looks of the parking lot, it's standing room only."  
  
Speed grinned at her as he took her hand and kissed it. "Don't worry, Trix if there aren't enough seats, you can sit on my lap." She tittered and shook her head.  
  
"You're very frisky tonight, more so than usual. What gives?" Trixie asked, her delicate brows cocked.  
  
Speed looked deeply into her eyes. "It's just you. You look so groovy in that dress, it's really turning me on." His eyes slid caressingly down her body, savoring the svelte slender form of Trixie in the peacock blue chiffon backless mini-dress that she was wearing with slim silver high- heeled sandals.  
  
"Well thank you, kind sir. And you're not so bad yourself." Trixie took in the way Speed was dressed, wearing a dark red dinner jacket, a white dress shirt and striped tie and white dress slacks with white bucks that offset his good looks and made him cut quite a dashing figure. "Pretty jazzy threads there."  
  
Speed grinned and then his grin faded as he looked at the entrance to the club and sighed resignedly, "Well, I guess we'd better split and head inside." He opened his door and climbed out with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man heading for his execution.  
  
"You act like you're traveling the last mile, Speed. Come on now, it doesn't look like it's going to be that bad," Trixie said as he opened her door and taking her hand assisted her out of the Mach 5.  
  
"It's just that I know what's waiting inside. Honestly, Trix, if we're smart we'll just put in an appearance and then blow this pop stand," Speed grumbled as he led Trixie to the stairs leading to the entrance.  
  
"Well, you remember what you said to Pops. That you'd put your best foot forward for the team and for the company. So let's go inside, I'm sure it'll be virtually painless."  
  
Speed grunted, "Yeah well, don't say I didn't warn you." He took her elbow and together they climbed the stairs and entered the club.  
  
The club interior was decorated in pastel colors with large potted palms located all around the lobby and rattan chairs with plump comfortable cushions. Speed escorted Trixie to the desk where a willowy suntanned blonde dressed in pale yellow sat with a ledger and ID tags. She smiled warmly at him.  
  
"Good evening, sir. May I have your name please?"  
  
Speed smiled politely and replied, "Racer, Speed Racer."  
  
The blonde's blue eyes widened. "Oh, of course!" She picked up a badge and reached her hand over to give it to him. Her smile widened and her voice lowered in a breathless purr. "Here's your badge, Mr. Racer." As she handed it to him she deliberately let her fingers lightly brush his as he took the badge.  
  
The blonde's not-so-subtle come on did not go unnoticed by Trixie who nudged Speed as he smiled his thanks to the girl. With a sheepish grin he reached and took her hand to head into the banquet room.  
  
"Humph! Well, she certainly was obvious. And you sure ate it up!" she said acidly.  
  
Speed turned and regarded her with his brow askance. "What are you talking about, Trix?"  
  
"That girl out there was about as subtle as a billboard. And you seemed to be in another world."  
  
Speed shrugged, "I didn't do anything but give her my name so I could get my badge, honey. I can't help other women's reactions to me. It's a regular thing at these race promotion affairs." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and guided her through the crowd.  
  
The room was actually an atrium with wall-to-wall windows looking out on the ocean and French doors leading out to a patio that was on the beach. The room was filled with drivers, crewmembers, owners and their significant others as well as a myriad of attractive women, model representatives for the sponsors either seated at the tables or on the dance floor where a rock band was playing some energetic dance music. The various members of the press, the racing commission and event sponsor executive representatives were seated at a long table to the rear of the room.  
  
Speed and Trixie threaded their way through the throng as they searched for a relatively unoccupied table. As they waded through the sea of bodies, Trixie noticed that the females in the room would try to catch Speed's eye by sending several highly seductive glances and come-hither looks his way. But for all intents and purposes he appeared completely oblivious to the attention as he gripped her hand and pulled her along. They finally came across a table located just to the right of the bandstand but far enough away for them to not get their ears blown out by the band's amplifiers. Speed held Trixie's chair out for her to sit and then took a seat across from her. He smiled affectionately at her as he gazed at her.  
  
"So is this okay, Trix?" he asked as she settled herself, hanging her evening bag on the back of the chair.  
  
"Uh-huh," she replied coolly, glancing around, avoiding his probing cobalt orbs.  
  
Speed's smile faded a bit as he inquired in a concerned tone, "You still sore at me?"  
  
Trixie met his gaze and shrugged, "I guess I'll just have to get used to the fact that my boyfriend is the heartthrob of the Formula 1 racing world."  
  
"I didn't ask for the title."  
  
"Yeah, I know. But it's still going to take some getting used to," she admitted laconically.  
  
Speed smiled again relieved. "So am I forgiven?" he pleaded with hopeful boyish eyes.  
  
Trixie smiled back, "Of course. You really didn't do anything. It's just my first big publicity event with you and I guess I just didn't think that what was written in the newspapers was really true."  
  
"It's not. You know that, we've been going together now for three weeks and I've never even looked at another girl," Speed pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, but give me a chance to deal with all the girls flocking to you," Trixie said with a pout.  
  
"C'mon, Trix. You know all that garbage they wrote about me is all exaggerated. Actually, these events are the only thing I hate about racing. With the exception of the press, drivers and crews, the rest of the people are usually just groupies, hangers-on, and various others who want to tell their friends all about being with racers," Speed explained as he reached for her hands. "That's why I wanted to blow this off."  
  
Trixie nodded and responded softly, "But you have an obligation to Pops and the team."  
  
"Right," he agreed. "So we'll just have to get through it all. It's a drag but we can do it, okay?" He squeezed her hands as she smiled and nodded in agreement. "Besides, the place is kind of groovy and we were lucky to get a table that's not out in the open so we can keep a relatively low profile."  
  
That ambition was soon lost as a familiar voice shouted above the music, "Hey, Speed! Trixie!" Both swung their heads around to see Sparky, dressed in a dark blue dinner jacket and tie, sans his ever-present baseball cap making his way toward their table. But unfortunately, a sports reporter with a photographer had heard the mechanic and pushed their way to Speed and Trixie's table as well. He even beat Sparky there, shoving a microphone in Speed's face as the photographer snapped several pictures of him and Trixie.  
  
"Speed Racer, rookie driving sensation of Pops Motor Sports, glad to see you could make it tonight. Ed Pushee, sports columnist for the Raytona Picayune. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" the reporter inquired taking a seat at the table.  
  
"Uh no, I guess not," Speed said reluctantly as he glanced helplessly at Trixie. Sparky, who finally made it over to the table, glanced curiously at the goings-on. Speed looked at his mechanic and pilot and decided to make introductions.  
  
"First, I like you to meet two members of the Go Team. Sparky Sabu, my crew chief and Trixie Shimura, my spotter and--"  
  
"Speed Racer! As I live and breathe!" a throaty resonant mezzo voice called out. At being summoned so Speed glanced in the direction from which it came and an attractive strawberry blonde with violet eyes and an ample bosom in a gold lame mini dress came sauntering over to the table.  
  
"Debbie? H-hi," Speed stammered as the girl rushed over and bent down to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug, pressing his face in her bosom. The photographer smirked and snapped another series of pictures much to Trixie's chagrin and rising anger.  
  
"Now, Speed, you've been a naughty boy, not calling me when I got back from my modeling job and you promised you would," she said in a disappointed manner. She pulled a chair over from another table to sit down next to him, presenting her back to Trixie, whose eyes were flashing.  
  
"Debbie, I never prom--" Speed protested but Debbie wasn't listening.  
  
"Sure, it's okay Speedy. I know you've been busy getting ready for the race and all but you could've at least called," Debbie said with a pout. "Don't I deserve an explanation?"  
  
"Debbie, I-I have to talk to the reporter. He's waiting for me and--" Speed tried to say but again he was cut off by the girl.  
  
"It's okay, Speedy. I'll wait," she cooed as she looped her arm through his as the photographer took yet another set of pictures.  
  
The popping flashbulbs of the photographer blinded Speed and he was overwhelmed by the quickly occurring events that had quickly flown out of control so he barely knew what was going on. He was so occupied with the reporter and the insistent Debbie he had inadvertently forgotten all about Trixie and Sparky. But Sparky saw the storm clouds gathering in Trixie's countenance and realizing discretion was the better part of valor, asked her to dance.  
  
"C'mon Trixie, let's dance." Sparky offered his hand and wordlessly Trixie rose and followed him onto the dance floor. They began dancing to a surfing number.  
  
Trixie felt as if someone had come along, taken a straw and sucked all the joy out of her evening. She danced woodenly, not really even hearing the music her lovely face a study in pure misery. Sparky felt sorry for her and silently cursed his best friend for allowing himself to be swept up in his own celebrity. The band began playing a slow song so Sparky drew Trixie into his arms to glide her on the floor. He took the opportunity to talk to her.  
  
"Listen Trix, I know that you're upset with Speed but all this really isn't his fault. These publicity bashes are always like this, especially for the drivers. They aren't safe from the predatory women unless they're married and even then the bimboes are still out in force."  
  
Trixie smiled tremulously at Sparky. "Thanks Sparky but he could've said something. It's like he just let that girl come and plant herself on him. And he absolutely ignored me, it was like I wasn't there," she said sniffling, hating herself for crying. She buried her head in Sparky's shoulder as they swayed to the soft music, wetting his dinner jacket with her tears and he felt awkward but filled with compassion for her.  
  
They continued dancing until someone tapped on Sparky's shoulder. "Can I cut in?"  
  
Still holding Trixie close in the dance, Sparky whirled around and came face to face with a tall muscular man resplendent in a dark navy jacket, tie and the ever-present mask. "Racer X! I didn't know you were participating in the road rally. Trixie, it's Racer X."  
  
"Yes, Sparky, I'm entered. I want another race to practice in before the Grand Prix. So can I cut in and get a dance with the prettiest lady here?"  
  
"Uh, sure Racer X. I want to go grab a bite at the buffet table anyway." He handed Trixie to the waiting arms of the mysterious racer. "See ya later, Trix."  
  
"I hope you don't mind my cutting in, Trixie," Racer X said as he swept her in another slow dance.  
  
Trixie looked at him and smiled gratefully. "Of course not. But look around, I'm far from the prettiest girl here," she said glumly.  
  
"Haven't you heard, Trixie? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I see beauty in a woman's substance more so than her appearance, although, you have both. Speed's a lucky guy."  
  
Trixie made an unladylike snort. "Yeah, sure. He's really over there counting his lucky stars, don't you think?" She tossed her head in the direction of the table where Speed was still engrossed in conversation with the reporter and the gold-clad buxom Debbie, whose arms were locked around his neck.  
  
Racer X who in reality was Speed's long lost older brother Rex peered over Trixie's head at his younger brother and shook his head. "Trixie, I'm sure he is, no matter what he's doing now. This is a publicity gathering, and it's unfortunate but the fact is, the drivers are fresh meat to all the phony women here, especially the single ones. But I'm sure he knows that a real woman is a gift to be cherished."  
  
Trixie looked up at Racer X and tried to read into his eyes, the only visible part of his face and wondered what lay under the enigmatic mask. His voice was one of great compassion and wisdom and she found herself yearning to uncover the mystery. She said shyly, "Thank you for that, Racer X."  
  
"It's my pleasure."  
  
They continued dancing until the number ended and Racer X made his excuses, starting to escort her back to the table but she laid a restraining arm on him.  
  
"Please, Racer X, I-I'd rather not go back there. I'd just as soon go out and sit on the patio or maybe call a cab to take me back to the trailer."  
  
"Of course. You don't have to do that, I'll drive you back. I have a meeting with some of my sponsors but when I finish I can take you back. Do you mind waiting?" Racer X asked.  
  
Trixie shook her head. "No, I don't. I just want to get out of here."  
  
"Okay then. Wait for me on the patio. I'll come look for you there." He turned to leave.  
  
"Oh, Racer X? Can I ask another favor of you?"  
  
"Sure, Trixie. What is it?"  
  
Trixie took a deep breath. "Could you go get my evening bag? I left it at the table, hung on a chair."  
  
Racer X nodded. "You go out to the patio and have a seat and I'll go get it." He headed over to the table.  
  
Back there, Speed had just finished with the reporter and gotten rid of the cloying presence of Debbie when he realized he was all alone. Dismayed and concerned he frantically scanned the crowd for a petite peacock blue clad brunette when Racer X came up to the table.  
  
"Oh hi, Racer X. I didn't know you were entered in the race," Speed said with a grin as he offered his hand.  
  
"How ya doin', Speed?" Racer X responded by shaking the proffered hand.  
  
"Uh, okay I guess, I just got through with the local sports reporter. By the way, have you seen Trixie?" Speed said as he worriedly glanced about.  
  
"Yeah, she went out to the patio."  
  
"Thanks," Speed said as he turned to go but Racer X grabbed his arm to detain him. Speed shot Racer X a questioning look. "What gives?"  
  
"I'd like to talk to you Speed," Racer X asked softly with a hint of steel in his voice that brooked no disobedience.  
  
Speed bristled, "With all due respect, Racer X, I want to find my girlfriend first."  
  
"After ignoring her all night?" Racer X asked silkily.  
  
Speed's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? And why the hell are you so concerned about my girlfriend?" he countered suspiciously, remembering Trixie's infatuation with the mystery man when he first pointed him out to her.  
  
"I'm concerned for the two of you. You, because this whole scene is obviously overwhelming you and her because she's in unfamiliar territory and it's scaring the daylights out of her."  
  
"Oh yeah? And how do you know that?" Speed demanded, arms crossed and glaring.  
  
Racer X sighed, "Because I do. I was dancing with her and she told me how you had forgotten all about her as you were being uh--interviewed. What was her name anyway?"  
  
Speed became defensive. "Debbie was a girl I'd went out with a couple of times and she came over to say hello. What was I supposed to do with a reporter there, tell her to get lost? Why'd Trixie disappear on me, anyway, did she tell you?"  
  
"Speed, I saw how that girl plastered herself to you and right in front of Trixie. What did you expect her to do about it? You know a hell of a lot about racing but you're totally in the dark when it comes to women."  
  
"And what makes you such a damned expert? I don't see you with anybody," Speed said spitefully.  
  
"Well, I do know that I've been around the track a hell of a lot longer than you have and I know that if you don't learn now how to handle your celebrity status, when the ride ends, you'll be all alone. You don't take the people that matter for granted and you never forget that as quickly as it all happens, it can all vanish. And as cliché as this sounds, a good woman is hard to find and in this business, hard to keep."  
  
Speed sighed and softened his expression. "So she's really sore at me, huh? Well, I do deserve it, I kind of let things get out of control before." He looked at Racer X in misery. "What do I do now?"  
  
Racer X's heart went out to his younger brother. He picked up the small silver evening bag he was retrieving and handed it to Speed. "Here. I was about to bring this out to her, she's waiting for me to give it to her and I'm supposed to give her a ride back to the trailer. Why don't you do it?"  
  
"She probably doesn't want to see me," he said forlornly as he tried to give the bag back.  
  
Racer X pressed the purse in Speed's hands. "You're wrong, Speed. I think the best thing for you to do now is to let her know that you're sorry and that you still care. She needs some reassurance."  
  
"She has no idea how much I do care. Thanks Racer X, I don't know how to-- " Speed began but Racer X had disappeared into the milling throng. He sighed again as he cradled Trixie's bag in his hands as he caught a whiff of her perfume from its surface. He closed his eyes and took a moment to savor the floral fragrance, so delicate and lovely like her. He then opened his eyes and with a determined look, he straightened his shoulders and made his way through the crowd to the patio door.  
  
Trixie, meanwhile, had been sitting in a wicker chair near the edge of the patio staring out at the moonlight dancing on the crashing surf and turning the white sand shore to silver. She rose to her feet and walked to the edge of the patio, closer to the beach. The scene was romantic and ethereal with several couples from the party taking advantage of the atmosphere but she was unaffected, her mind filled with the memory of the sultry Debbie all over Speed and him doing nothing to stop her. She felt completely humiliated that he didn't even tell the reporter who she was, just that she was the spotter for the Go Team. She shook her head, fighting the sting of hot tears once again and bitterly began wondering why she even agreed to accompany him to this party when a hand on her bare shoulder startled her.  
  
"Hi there pretty lady, why the long face?" a deep, resonant accented voice asked.  
  
Trixie whirled around and a pair of twinkling golden eyes in a rugged face smiled at her. Phil Pistone, top driver with the Cannoli Racing Team addressed her cheerily.  
  
"Hey, you're the lady pilot for the Go Team. What are you doing sitting out here, all alone on a night like this?"  
  
Trixie gave him a small smile as she shrugged. "I'm just enjoying the view." She turned and looked out at the waves again feeling ill at ease.  
  
Phil stepped in front of her, his dark hair ruffled by the sea breeze. "You didn'ta come here alone, did you? A lovely lady lika yourself."  
  
Trixie looked at the dapper Italian racer. She had heard many stories about Pistone, about his activities both on and off the track and a bit of trepidation tickled her spine. The last thing she had wanted was to encourage a roue like him, especially since she was on the Go Team, she wanted no rumors to start about her behavior. There was enough being said about Speed.  
  
At the thought of Speed, Trixie's ire again was raised and in a fit of pique and a spirit of rebellion she smiled sweetly at Pistone. "I didn't but I'm Speed's spotter and he's busy so I came out for a breath of fresh air."  
  
"Oh really? Talk 'round here says you and Speed are an item."  
  
Trixie shrugged casually, "We've gone out a few times but he doesn't own me. And I don't own him." She was trying to be blasé but her own words sounded hollow and contrived.  
  
Phil gazed at her. "Still, a lady lika yourself to be alone like this on a night like this is criminal. Would you care to dance with me?" he asked as he took her hands in his.  
  
Meantime, Speed had managed to find his way to the patio. The dim lights of the Japanese lanterns along with the moonlight made it difficult to see and the patio was filled with couples, enjoying the cool breeze and lunar seascape. He made his way around the various chairs, looking at each setting to see if he could find Trixie and was about to give up when he decided to explore the edge of the patio. He studied each shadowed figure until he saw the figures of a man and woman at the far edge and heard a familiar sweetly husky voice.  
  
"Thanks, Phil but I really shouldn't."  
  
"Huh?" Speed said as he got closer. His eyes widened then narrowed as he recognized the voice of his girlfriend and Pistone, who had her hands held captive in both of his. He angrily strode over.  
  
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Speed said icily. "Pistone, what the hell do you think you're doing with my girl?"  
  
Trixie's eyes became wide as saucers as Pistone chuckled lightly. "Hey Speed, I didn'ta know she was your girl." He eyed Speed steadily and gave him a man-to-man smile. "She told me that you've only gone out a few times."  
  
"Oh yeah? Well, let me inform you. Trixie's my girl so why don't you go find your own. There's plenty of prospects in there." Speed hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the crowded banquet room. "Or have you laid every chick in there already?"  
  
Trixie gasped and Pistone's eyes darkened and narrowed. "Watcha you step, Racer or I'll show you just what I do with loud-mouth kids when they are disrespectful."  
  
Speed handed Trixie's purse to her and put his fists up. "I'm ready when you are," he snapped. The men began squaring off but she got between and with her hands on his chest Trixie pleaded with Speed.  
  
"Speed, please don't. He was just talking to me, nothing else."  
  
Speed pushed her away. "Stay out of this, Trixie. This is between me and him." He swung his right fist toward Pistone's jaw but he felt it grasped in a powerful grip, which halted its path. He whirled around with a scowl to see who it was stopping him and was face to mask with Racer X.  
  
"So what's going on here, Speed? An impromptu boxing match, perhaps?" he asked casually.  
  
Pistone had taken his cue to disappear when Racer X grabbed Speed's fist. From a safe distance he shouted to Speed. "You've got bona fortuna, Racer so you'd better watch out 'cause next time your luck, she runs out." He disappeared into the gathered crowd who had lined up to watch the fight.  
  
Speed gritted his teeth in frustration. "That dirty son of a bitch. Next time, I'll clean his clock." He wrenched his fist from Racer X's grip. "Let go of me, damn it. C'mon Trixie, we're leaving," he barked. He made to grab her arm as she stood there in speechless shock at what had transpired.  
  
Racer X took his irate younger brother and pulled him aside. "You'd better cool off before you go anywhere. In your present mood, you'd be a hazard on the road."  
  
"And who the hell appointed you my boss, huh? Or are you a cop among other things?" Speed asked snidely, his anger still boiling.  
  
"No, I'm not a cop or your boss but as a professional race car driver I feel a responsibility to keep the roads safe and others as well so if you insist on taking off in your present temper, I'll be seeing Trixie home," Racer X insisted, taking Trixie's arm to leave.  
  
Speed jumped and grabbed Racer X by the shoulder. "Get your mitts off her. You're not taking my girl anywhere," he ordered as he made to belt Racer X but something in the way the masked racer stood and coldly pierced Speed with his eyes made him hesitate and drop his hand from the taller, larger man.  
  
"Be careful, Speed. Don't do anything you may end up regretting. You take the time to cool off and I'll see you on the course tomorrow." Racer X then took Trixie's elbow and dismissing Speed guided her through the crowd of spectators and flashing cameras of the press.  
  
Speed watched as Racer X and Trixie retreated into the throng and he breathed deeply as his rage cooled. He hated to admit it but, as usual Racer X was right, to drive in a rage would have been courting disaster. If he had gotten into an accident and totaled the Mach 5 his racing ambitions would pretty much be over. And if Trixie had gotten hurt because of his recklessness he would never forgive himself. Sighing, he took a seat on the patio and isolated himself from the rest of the people for the remainder of the evening.  
  
Speed was still brooding, sitting out on the patio of the Seacoast Beach Club staring out at the waves crashing on the shore when the party was winding down. He didn't even notice when his best friend Sparky came out and joined him, taking a chair and sliding it beside him.  
  
"Well, the party's almost over. You gonna split or are you planning to spend the night on the beach?"  
  
"Why not? I'm in the doghouse anyway." Speed grunted, "I'm just sittin' here thinking. What a night!"  
  
Sparky nodded, "Yeah, pretty eventful. The papers'll be full tomorrow morning."  
  
Speed groaned, "Don't remind me. Pops is gonna have a fit when he reads 'em." He ran a hand through his hair. "Spark, I'm not a stupid guy, so why do I act sometimes like I haven't an ounce of brains?"  
  
Sparky shook his head. "I don't have any answers for ya, buddy. Just that you need to be careful how you handle things 'cause you're the media darling for the moment. You can't even fart without them wanting to write and report about it."  
  
Speed cringed slightly. "That's the least of my problems. What am I gonna say to Trixie? She'll probably wring my neck then never speak to me again." He pounded his fist on the armrest of the chair he was sitting in. "I blew it with the press and probably lost the best thing that ever happened to me."  
  
Sparky reached over and gave his friend a reassuring pat. "Take it easy, pal. She'll forgive you, Trixie's not unreasonable and right now she just feels rejected."  
  
"Rejected? Spark, she's everything to me! How can she feel rejected?" Speed said incredulously.  
  
"She felt totally ignored by you tonight and to tell you the truth, Speed, you kinda forgot about her with that reporter and not to mention Debbie hanging all over you," Sparky pointed out.  
  
Speed groaned again. "Spark, I was cornered. I had the reporter on one end, the photographer blinding me with his damned flashbulbs on the other and Debbie cutting me off and hanging all over me. I tried to say something, I really did. But, I felt like the dam had burst on me, everything got completely out of control. When things finally calmed down, Trixie was gone."  
  
"Yeah, we saw you were busy and so I asked her to dance," Sparky informed him.  
  
"You did, huh?" Speed eyed his friend suspiciously.  
  
"Whoa, Speed, easy," Sparky was quick to say. He laid a placating hand on his friend's shoulder. "All I did was dance with her and let her cry on my shoulder. My jacket's still damp from the tears."  
  
Speed's shoulders slumped forward in defeat and he said in self-loathing, "So I made her cry. What a jerk I am!" He then straightened his shoulders and got to his feet. "I gotta make it up to her somehow, I just gotta," he said with fierce determination. He turned to leave then looked at Sparky with gratitude. "Thanks, pal for everything."  
  
"Hey, what're friends for?" Sparky answered and got up to follow.  
  
Trixie stepped out of the bathroom of the trailer she had been given to live in clad in a yellow satin nightgown. Pops had supplied her, Speed and Sparky furnished trailers to park at the track and use during races in the States to save on motel and hotel bills, with the boys sharing one trailer and she in the other. She reached to turn off the light as she slid into the bed, her mind on the upsetting events of the evening. How dare he make a claim on me after ignoring me all night! And letting that tramp hang all over him, he has some nerve! After I bought a new dress and everything, I'll never speak to him again she fumed, her anger causing her body to be rigid and tense and keeping her from sleeping.  
  
Trixie was still lying in her bed brooding when the sound of pebbles hitting her window startled her. She sat up and jumped from the bed to peer through the side of the drawn shade and spotted the Mach 5 parked right by the trailer door. She released the shade and leaned back, ambivalence filling her making her even more tense and she sat there in indecision, not knowing what to do. There were more pebbles hitting the window as Speed tried again to get her attention. Trixie sighed deeply, donned her robe and realizing he wasn't going to be put off easily, walked over to the door and yanked it open.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice glacial and remote.  
  
"C-can I talk to you, Trixie? Please?"  
  
"I'm not interested in anything you have to say, Speed Racer." She started to turn and go back in the trailer.  
  
Speed stepped forward. "Trixie I-I can explain," he stammered, his eyes wide and pleading. "Really, I can, please just let me, okay?"  
  
Trixie turned back around. She took a deep breath and with her arms folded in front she acquiesced, "Okay, you have five minutes. Start talking."  
  
Speed came forward. "I-I'm sorry that I forgot about you at the table, Trix. I was just overwhelmed by everything happening so fast, I didn't know what to do."  
  
"Yeah, sure. Who is this Debbie?" Trixie demanded, still unconvinced.  
  
Speed ran his hand nervously through his inky locks. "S-she's a model I met and took out a few times before I met you. We broke up when we both realized we wanted different things. She meant nothing to me, honest."  
  
"That's not what it seemed like to her, she was all over you. She apparently wanted to pick up where you both left off so I left. I didn't want to get in the way, after all I'm just your spotter." Trixie sniffed, raising her chin haughtily.  
  
"You weren't in the way, Trix. You could never be in the way," Speed was trying to convince her. "And you know you're not just my spotter, you're my girl."  
  
"Then why didn't you stop her and say something?" Trixie asked softly, hurt in her eyes.  
  
"I tried to but between her and the reporter I felt bowled over. And when I finally got rid of everybody, you were gone," Speed said stepping closer but Trixie backed away from him.  
  
"S-stay away from me," she stammered, losing her ground.  
  
Undaunted, Speed came forward and took hold of her arms. "C'mon, Trix. I know I was wrong to not stand up and say anything. I was afraid to be rude to the reporter and I wanted to let Debbie down easily but I forgot all about the one person that means the world to me, you. Will you please forgive me?" His eyes were wide and hopeful making him look like a little boy.  
  
Trixie sighed, all her hurt and anger draining away. Her heart pounding, she felt irresistibly drawn into the clear cobalt gaze as he waited for her answer. She nodded and said, "I forgive you, Speed."  
  
Speed heaved a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around Trixie. "Thank you, baby. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." He drew back and took her face in his hands to lower his lips on hers. She melted completely as her arms snaked up and under his arms as she returned his kiss with emotion and hunger to rival his.  
  
They finally broke away and Trixie looked into Speed's eyes. "Speed, I want to tell you that out on the patio at the club Pistone never touched me. We were just talking--" but Speed laid his finger gently on her lips.  
  
"I know, baby. But the guy has a reputation and when I saw him with you, holding your hands, I blew my top," Speed admitted. "I'm sorry about that, too."  
  
"It's a good thing that Racer X was there. He kept you from getting into a fight with that guy."  
  
"Yeah, the last thing I need is more negative press. I owe him big time, especially for getting you home safely."  
  
"Uh-huh. He was so nice and such a perfect gentleman. He dropped me off and didn't leave till I was inside safely."  
  
"Huh, I do the same thing too, don't I?" Speed said with a touch of resentfulness.  
  
Trixie smiled, "Of course but he didn't say good night like you do." She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes seductively.  
  
Speed's face broke into a slow grin. "Oh, and how's that?" he asked, his blue orbs twinkling.  
  
"Oh, like this," Trixie said as she went up on tiptoe and softly placed her lips against his. He opened his mouth to receive her and his arms tightened around her, pulling her close, caressing her back in slow, rhythmic circles as his mouth drew in the sweetness.  
  
Speed pulled away and whispered huskily in her ear, "How about going with me for a moonlight ride?"  
  
"Speed, like this? I'm not even dressed," Trixie protested.  
  
"I don't mind if you don't mind. So how about it?" he insisted, pulling her toward the Mach 5.  
  
"It's late and we both have to get up early tomorrow. There's a practice run of the rally you know," she pointed out.  
  
Speed sighed in disappointment, "I hate to admit but you're right. But after the race is over, you owe me one moonlight ride and I intend to collect. So be warned."  
  
Trixie giggled, "I stand warned." 


	3. Part 3 FINAL PRACTICE

Part 3-FINAL PRACTICE  
  
The sun was already a sultry white ball in the sky beating down on the Raytona Speed Oval at 9:45 in the morning, promising a hot and sticky day. The Oval was teeming with activity, drivers, cars, pit crews and other personnel were busy making preparations for the final practice run of the Raytona Road Rally course. Each team was concentrated in their allotted pit area, tuning and tweaking engines, adjusting track bars, and briefing drivers as they got ready to tackle the course. Fuel supplies were made at the ready, as gasmen measured each gallon to figure out how to get the best fuel mileage, jackmen and tire changers checked the inflation pressure of each tire to make sure that the tire life would be at its best.  
  
Up in the booth the International Racing Commission went over lists of entrants and checked the field carefully to ensure the cars were at the ready for each individual team. Down in the pits, commission reps were going over each vehicle to make sure that they met regulations and that no car had an unfair or illegal advantage.  
  
In the Go Team pit, the IRC rep had just given the Mach 5 a thorough going over and the vehicle passed with flying colors, but the rep approached Speed with a reminder.  
  
"Speed, I know I don't have to tell you this, but all the special functions of the Mach 5 are not to be used to advance you in the race unless you find yourself in peril. That means a life or death situation so I expect you to follow the rules." The IRC rep leaned over into the cockpit of the sleek, aerodynamic racing machine.  
  
Speed flipped his helmet's visor up to meet the gaze of the rep with his own steady blue one. "Sir, I can assure you that I will do nothing that will be in violation of the rally or IRC rules."  
  
The rep nodded, satisfied. "Fair enough. Your number for the practice run is 14 and I wish you the best for the race." The rep turned and vanished into the sea of race team members in the pit areas.  
  
Sparky approached the side and leaned in to address his best friend. "So what's the verdict?"  
  
"Everything checks out okay. He just reminded me to refrain from using the special functions in an unfair or illegal manner. And I'm number 14 for the run." Speed recounted as he replaced his visor and made a quick check of his dash gauges.  
  
"Great. That means that you'll be in the second group." Sparky said.  
  
Due to the fact that the rally course consisted of two main routes in and through Raytona, the city officials had the IRC split the practice runs for the big rally into two sessions for two consecutive days before the race with the field split into groups of ten cars going out in staggered increments. The course of the race was diversified and made up of several locations around the Raytona city limits. The race begins first in the Raytona Speed Oval with 10 warm-up laps then the rally takes the cars through the town and to the south and through the Neverglades wetlands- terrain is quite a challenge as most of the area is swampland with hidden pockets of quicksand. Then the course takes the racers through the String of Pearls-a group of small-uninhabited islets a mile off the coast that are connected by just the National Route 4 highway that snakes through the islets and then comes up the coastline of the mainland. The drivers follow the coast for ten miles then the course goes through the Billy Hills, a cluster of hills that are to the southwest of Raytona and then curves up and through the Sycamore National Forest and to the Flatlands, the area to the north that consists of winds and twists. The major landmark that signifies the turn back point for the racers, an intersecting section that lay just before Lake Tepidspring, is a copse of dogwood trees where a IRC check tent will be set up for the drivers to check in. They then will head back to the Speed Oval and the finish line.  
  
Speed scanned his fuel, oil, water, battery gauges and satisfied turned to Sparky who had just emerged from beneath the raised hood of the Mach 5. "Well, Spark, how's she look?"  
  
Sparky came up and firmly closed the hood. "She doesn't get any better, pal. You're good to go." He made an okay gesture with his index finger and thumb.  
  
"Good," Speed said with a nod. Before he got into position, he wanted to check on one other thing. He reached over and picked up his microphone for the radio on the dash. "Mach 5 to Bluebird. Mach 5 to Bluebird. Come in, Bluebird."  
  
The radio came to life with Trixie's husky dulcet voice. "Bluebird here. What's up, Mach 5?"  
  
"Just checking in. I'm number 14 in the second group. Is everything all set from your side?"  
  
"Everything's just about good to go. I'm making a last minute check but everything looks to be a go. How about you?" Trixie asked.  
  
"We're all set. Just waiting now. I'll let you know when I'm on my way," Speed replied.  
  
"Okay. Be careful, Speed," Trixie cautioned.  
  
Speed grinned at the concern in her sweet comment. "I will, Trix. You be careful too."  
  
"Will do. I'll see you after practice, okay?"  
  
"It's a date. Take care, sweetheart."  
  
"You too. Over and out."  
  
Speed replaced the mike and settled in as he watched the first group pull up to the start line. He recognized drivers from some of the most competitive racing teams on the Formula 1 circuit. Pedro Zapatos with the Garbanzo Racing Club, Sven Fjiordsen representing Gunnar/Laars Racing, Jean Claude LeMans of the DuBois Brothers racing team just to name a few.  
  
He was still watching the first group get ready for the green flag when a shadow fell over him and a snide accented voice purred, "Well, Racer, Ia see you made eet to practice. Especially after last night."  
  
Speed's head shot up and he glared at the tall smirking form of Phil Pistone. "What do you want, Pistone? Shouldn't you be at your rod getting ready for your practice run instead of here busting my chops."  
  
Pistone threw his head back and laughed. "I justa come to weesh you good luck. We in the same group, numero duo." He held up to fingers.  
  
Speed grunted as he turned his head to dismiss Pistone. The Italian racer looked around and asked casually, "So where's your bellissima spotter?"  
  
Speed snapped his head around and regarded Pistone through narrowed eyes shielded by his visor. "Pistone, if I haven't told you before I'm tellin' you now, stay away from Trixie. Or I'll pick up where we left off last night and knock your block off!"  
  
Pistone's amber eyes narrowed as well. "Anytime, my friend." He opened his mouth to say more but an IRC rep came to him and informed him it was time for his pre-race inspection. He grinned nastily at Speed and left with a parting shot, "Have a good time on the course and watcha you back." He strode away chuckling while Speed gripped his steering wheel tight in rage.  
  
Sparky, having seen the fury in Speed came over and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Take it easy, pal. You need to calm down before the practice run, for that terrain you need a cool head."  
  
"That snake had the nerve to ask where Trixie was. If he thinks that she's gonna be another notch on his bedpost, he's got another thing coming. I'll kick his ass so hard he won't have one," Speed snarled.  
  
Sparky nodded silently as he saw his buddy take some deep breaths to calm himself. Speed had taken and mastered several martial arts throughout his boyhood and pre-teens and was now trying to center his ki and focus, finding serenity so he could concentrate on the road. He then released the wheel to loosen his arms, which had been tense and taking another deep cleansing breath, put his hands back on the wheel.  
  
"You okay now?"  
  
Speed nodded, "Uh-huh. I'm fine, Spark."  
  
"Good."  
  
The first group got the green flag and with a roar, took off down the track and headed out on the first leg of the rally. The PA system announced for all drivers in the second group to line up according to number order so Speed turned the key and revved the Mach 5 to get into position. As he got into his assigned place on the field, he was dismayed then disgusted to see that Pistone was placed right beside him. He gritted his teeth in aggravation and kept his head straight ahead, refocusing on the waiting course. He had achieved his previous state of calm again when the radio signal startled him.  
  
"Bluebird to Mach 5. Bluebird to Mach 5. Come in, Speed."  
  
Speed picked up the mike and answered, "Mach 5 here. What's up, Trix?"  
  
"I was about to ask you. I didn't hear from you and a couple of other spotters have already taken off. Are you in position?"  
  
"Uh- yeah. I'm sorry, I forgot to call and tell you."  
  
"You okay?" Trixie asked, concerned.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine! Geez, what do I have to do to prove it, sign an affidavit, for crying out loud?" Speed snapped, irritated.  
  
Trixie bristled, "Well, excuse me! Sorry I bothered."  
  
Speed sighed, "I'm sorry, Trix. I'm just uptight about the race."  
  
"It's just a practice run, Speed. I'll be radioing you about potential hazards so it'll be fine, you'll see," she reassured calmly.  
  
"I know. Thanks, babe. You'd better get a move on," Speed said.  
  
"Your wish is my command, sire," Trixie answered archly. "Anything you want."  
  
"Don't tempt me. 'Cause after practice I'll take you up on that," Speed promised.  
  
"You have a dirty mind, Speed."  
  
"Yeah, but you love it," Speed pointed out.  
  
Trixie sniffed, "Okay, before this conversation gets X rated I'm splitting. Have a good run, over and out." The radio went dead and grinning, Speed replaced the mike just as the PA blared:  
  
"ALL DRIVERS PLEASE GET INTO POSITION FOR THE GREEN FLAG!"  
  
Speed revved the engine of the Mach 5 as he pressed on the clutch to get ready to shift into first. He felt the powerful machine rock back and forth like a thoroughbred straining at the bit and then felt the familiar thrill of exhilaration that filled him just before every race. It was a feeling like no other, a feeling of having tremendous power at his fingertips and he got the customary rush of adrenaline that he knew would sustain him to the very end. Racing was his life and there was nothing else on God's green earth that he was happier doing or wanted to do more. Well, maybe there was one other thing Speed thought salaciously, his mind dwelling briefly on Trixie.  
  
The flagman raised the green flag and at the count the starter lights flashed and he dropped the flag. Ten cars roared toward the exit of the track and out onto the course. The cluster of cars barreled out onto the Southern Route 62 that headed out of Raytona and toward the Neverglades wetlands, the route's four lanes closed to regular traffic so the racers could practice. The cars screamed down the route and headed into the marsh area that heralded the area known as the Neverglades.  
  
Speed had started out in the second row and had passed the two cars in the first row with hardly any effort, the Mach 5's powerful engine making short work of the other racers. He began to pick up a comfortable lead when he hit the portion of the route that brought him into the low-lying land of the Neverglades. He took note of the swamp and marsh that was becoming closer and closer to the road from the outlying scenery. He picked up the mike for some info.  
  
"Mach 5 to Bluebird. Mach 5 to Bluebird. Come in, Bluebird."  
  
The radio crackled to life with Trixie's voice. "Bluebird here."  
  
"I'm heading into the Neverglades. How does the road look ahead?" Now that the practice run had commenced, as driver to spotter it was all business between Speed and Trixie, no flirting or sexual innuendo in the conversation.  
  
"Looks good as far as I can see. The trip through the next ten miles will be a challenge though."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"There's some sections of the road that have the water right up to the surface, it looks a bit treacherous. Think you can manage it?"  
  
"No sweat. How do things look behind me?"  
  
"Okay, your closest competitor is car number 18 then 34 then 9," she told him.  
  
"Number 9? That's Racer X! Groovy!" Speed crowed his excitement doubling. He loved racing against Racer X and his youthful exuberance was showing.  
  
"Just cool it and keep your mind on the road ahead, Speed. The rains they had down here last week brought some pockets of swamp mud onto some of the route too. I just spotted it," Trixie warned, to get him back in focus.  
  
"Will do. Talk to you again soon."  
  
"Roger. Over and out."  
  
Speed replaced the mike and saw he was heading into the thicker swamp area of the Neverglades. As he sped by, weeping willows, sassafras, and full thorny brush seemed to get closer and closer to the road, getting to be obstacles to driving. Speed pressed the Control C button on his steering column and the rotary saws extracted and began slicing through the stubborn shrubbery like so much soft spaghetti. He kept the saws going as he cruised along and cleared the road not only for himself but also for the competitors hot on his trail. But that was one of the drawbacks of leading the race and although this was just a practice run, his fiercely competitive nature pushed Speed to still want to post the fastest time.  
  
He continued at a rapid pace as the route twisted its way thought the murky, dark swampland. The muddy and watery areas Trixie had warned him of were a bit slick but he used Control B and got through without a hitch. As he drove along, Speed found himself glancing at the occasional sloshing of the swamp water as alligators paddled in and out, their scaly skin catching the occasional sunray that made it way through the thick vegetation or various exotic birds swooping about beneath the leafy canopy of deciduous trees. The Mach 5 just kept plowing steadily through, staying true and to the course throughout the Neverglade swamp.  
  
Finally, Speed saw the light of day as the marshy and shadowy swamp came to an end. He glanced up and saw the familiar blue speck and faint whirring of Trixie's helicopter and felt somewhat relieved, for while he had been in the deepest area of the swamp, he had been unable to see or even hear her. He continued full throttle to the next leg of the course, the islets called String of Pearls. While approaching the first connector of the highway leading into the islets, he began to get curious as to how much of a lead he had so he picked up the mike.  
  
"Mach 5 to Bluebird, Come in Bluebird."  
  
"Bluebird here. What's up?" Trixie answered.  
  
"I'm wondering how much of a lead I've got."  
  
"Hold on and I'll let you know." Trixie peered back through her binoculars. "Looks like you've got almost a two second lead on the next two cars."  
  
"Next two cars?" Speed asked.  
  
"Uh-huh. Car 18 and Car 9 are neck and neck coming out of the Neverglades. Looks like quite a battle for second place."  
  
Speed grinned in satisfaction. He relished it when the other racers were farther behind and when a battle for position was going on behind him it only boded well.  
  
"That's groovy news. Thanks, honey."  
  
"No problem. I'll keep you informed as they make progress on you. Who's Car 18 anyway?"  
  
Speed thought for a moment then groaned as he realized who it was. "It's Phil Pistone," he said sullenly.  
  
"Speed, why so glum about it?" Trixie wanted to know immediately picking up on his mood.  
  
Speed sighed at Trixie's uncanny ability to read his moods and didn't want to tell her about Pistone asking about her so he just said brightly, "Nothing, Trix. I'll talk to you in a bit."  
  
"Okay, over and out."  
  
Speed's trek through the String of Pearls was uneventful and went as smoothly as he could have hoped. Although uninhabited by humans and seemingly untouched by civilization, the islets were places of sylvan beauty, filled with palm trees, lush plants, and flowers. They were also teeming with exotic birds and small animals so as he streamed along, he enjoyed the various floras and fauna that surrounded him as he flew past. Because of that, he found pleasure in the ride, even knowing that it was a practice run for the upcoming rally and found himself wishing that Trixie was beside him in the car enjoying the view instead of above him in her helicopter. He thought about bringing her here after the race just to share the beauty with her.  
  
The practice run for Speed then headed into the Billy Hills, and the road ran up the first hill then zigzagged through the rest of the cluster of hills which due to his skills turned out to be uneventful as well. But because of the sharp curves and craggy mountain road, he had to slow down quite a bit, to maneuver the road without mishap. It was here that his lead was cut down and both Pistone and Racer X had gained considerable ground on him. He still led but not by much as he headed into the Sycamore National Forest.  
  
Speed was winding his way through the forest when his radio beeped.  
  
"Bluebird to Mach 5, come in Speed."  
  
He reached for the mike and answered, "Mach 5 here. Go ahead, Trixie."  
  
"Speed, Cars 18 and 9 are about four tenths of a second behind you."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I had to slow down for the road that went through the Billy Hills."  
  
"Well, that gave them the chance to catch up," she informed him.  
  
"I had no choice, Trixie. I had to take it easy going through the hills. It was like driving the Craggy Peak Mountains back home," Speed explained.  
  
"I know, Speed. I'm not blaming you. This is just a practice run anyway and I'd rather you take it easy and I'm sure Pops, Sparky, and the rest of the team does too. I want you back at the track in one piece."  
  
Speed grinned and he said airily, "Don't you worry your pretty head about it. I'll get back there safe and sound. We have a date, for afterward don't we?"  
  
"Uh-huh. So I'll be waiting for you. Over and out."  
  
Speed replaced the mike and continued on. In a short time he was out of Sycamore National Forest and on his way into and through the Flatlands and then to the crossroad just before Lake Tepidspring. He swung around and headed down National Route 4 back toward Raytona. Behind him was Pistone and the Shooting Star, Racer X's lean mean racing machine both right on his tail. They all screamed toward the speedway and entered the racetrack.  
  
As Speed made his way down the backstretch, Pistone had gotten right to his bumper and then, drove his car right up under and nudged, making Speed loose and sending him into the infield barrier while he roared past. Speed swung his wheel around frantically while applying a steady foot to the brake, which sent the Mach 5 careening across the infield. He finally came to a stop in a cloud of dust up against the barrier while the force of the blow sent his body hard against the side panel.  
  
"Speed!" Pops screamed, fear for his son etched on his craggy face. He began running toward the infield with Sparky in tow.  
  
Speed shook his head to clear the spinning and surveyed his surroundings. He removed his helmet, flexed his arms gingerly and examined his side to see if there was any damage. Satisfied there was no injury and becoming furious, he unbuckled his seatbelt and hoisted himself up and over the console to jump out and over the passenger side. He made to sprint over to the Cannoli pit stall when a strong arm detained him. Speed whirled to see Racer X standing like a platoon sergeant, taciturn and unmovable.  
  
"Hey, what's the big idea, Racer X? You saw what that SOB did! Let me go!"  
  
Racer X said quietly, "Just what do you plan to do, Speed?"  
  
"You gotta be putting me on. What the hell do you think I'm gonna do? I'm gonna go over there and kick the crap outta him!" Speed bellowed as he again tried to race over but Racer X tightened his grip on his irate little brother. With his other arm he gestured over to the Cannoli pit.  
  
"You don't have to do that. The IRC officials are taking care of things for you."  
  
"Huh?" Speed said blankly as his eyes followed Racer X's finger pointing. They both watched as the scene unraveled before them.  
  
True enough, several IRC officials were congregating on the Cannoli pit with Pistone as well as Bruno Riggatini, the large bearded owner of the Cannoli Team. From the look of it, the officials were in heated discussion with both Pistone and Riggatini. Then the Cannoli team driver and owner stalked off in fury.  
  
Speed grunted, "Great, but I still would've gotten more satisfaction ramming my fist down his throat. I owe him and it's way past payback time."  
  
Then a chestnut haired vision with a pair of shapely legs clad in cinnamon petal pushers and a pink tank top came bounding over. Trixie launched herself at an unsuspecting Speed in a fierce hug.  
  
"Oh Speed, I saw what that creep did! I landed the helicopter and came right over. Are you all right?" Trixie cried, her eyes wide with concern.  
  
Recovering from the energetic greeting of his girlfriend and finding her lithe form pressed tightly against him, Speed forgot about everything else as he momentarily savored Trixie's nearness, the soft scent of her perfume intoxicating him. He drew his head back to gaze deep into her worried sea green eyes.  
  
"I'm okay, Trix. It'll take a lot more than a little tap in my rear end to get to me."  
  
Trixie looked at him uncertainly then wrapped her arms around him again just to reassure herself that he was really all right. Speed returned the gesture holding her tightly against his chest, the heat rising in his body as the close call and everything else combined to stimulate him. They were in this entwined position until Pops and Sparky came rushing over to the infield from the Go Team pit. Pops cleared his throat loudly and the couple drew reluctantly apart.  
  
"Ah, I think that you two need to cool down for the time being. This isn't the place for that kind of thing, you know," he pointed out, blushing furiously.  
  
"Yeah," Sparky agreed smirking. "I thought I was gonna have to turn a hose on you guys. Besides, the tow truck's on its way. How's the Mach 5?"  
  
Speed glared at his buddy and then responded in a clipped tone, "She appears to be okay. The barrier's energy absorbing, you know. The alignment probably needs to be adjusted is all."  
  
"Will do," Sparky said as the tow truck rumbled up. He went over to the driver's side and conversed with the mechanic then the two of them proceeded to get the Mach 5 hooked onto the truck.  
  
Just at that moment, two IRC officials came over to address Speed. "Speed, we just wanted you to know that we fined Pistone and the Cannoli team for that action against you. Do you want to file a formal complaint?"  
  
Speed looked questioningly at them. "I can do that? I thought you had already fined them."  
  
"We did but according to IRC rules you can still file a formal complaint. So do you want to?"  
  
Speed folded his arms and pondered the offer. He was well aware of the regulations and knew that his filing a formal complaint meant that the team and driver both were subject to even heavier fines than when the Commission itself fined a driver or a team. He felt a twinge of spiteful delight as he realized that he held all the cards.  
  
"Speed?" Trixie asked softly, not caring for the gleam in his eyes.  
  
Speed shot a grin at her that didn't reach his eyes. "Okay, then. Yes, I do want to file a formal complaint. How do I go about doing that?"  
  
Racer X, whose presence was quietly in the background and unnoticed until he spoke, said softly, "I think that may be a mistake."  
  
Everybody looked at the tall, imposing masked figure. Pops glanced at the man and nodded, "I think he's right. Speed, the Commission already fined the Cannoli team and Pistone. Let sleeping dogs lie."  
  
Speed whirled and glared at his father. "Pops, you saw what he did! He deliberately made me crash. No, I'm going ahead with it." He abruptly left the group and followed the two officials to the IRC office.  
  
Pops, Trixie and Racer X all exchanged glances. Racer X turned to head back to his car but gave a parting comment. "Speed needs to learn to use his head more or he's going to end up in all kinds of trouble." He climbed into his car and after firing up the engine, took off.  
  
Pops stared at the departing enigmatic racer. Something about his voice was so familiar but Pops shook his head as he took Trixie's elbow. "C'mon Trixie, let's head to the trailer."  
  
Later, in the plush quarters of the Cannoli Racing team, Bruno Riggatini, was just finished talking on the phone. Phil Pistone sat indolently on a leather recliner, just basking in the joyful rays of the day's successful practice run. The fine he received was just a drop in the financial bucket for him, his late father, who had been a high court judge in Florence before he passed on, had left him quite well off. Money was not a problem.  
  
Bruno hung up the phone and stepped in front of Pistone and announced, "Well, that was IRC again."  
  
Pistone shrugged, "So what?" His cavalier attitude enraged the volatile Bruno like waving a red flag in front of a bull. He slapped the long legs of the Italian racer off the chair.  
  
"So what!? I'll tell you so what. The IRC has put my team on probation, which means anymore incidents, and my team will be suspended from racing for the rest of the year. This team is my lifeblood and I won't let anybody and that includes you, destroy what my father built from nothing. So get out."  
  
Pistone jumped to his feet. "You can't be serious."  
  
"I am. I'm sorry, Phil you're a great racer but you've become a liability, a liability I can't afford to have on my team."  
  
"B-but, I thought we were just fined," Phil pointed out in dismay.  
  
"Well, Speed Racer has filed a formal complaint and the fines are just part of the penalty. Because this is the team's or I should say your third incident, the team is officially on probation. They were considering it on their own but Racer's complaint was the deciding factor."  
  
"Why that snot-nosed little brat. Ima gonna fix him good," Pistone exploded. "He's just pissed because I tried to make time with his girlfriend at the party."  
  
"That's not my concern. My team is and as of now you are no longer a part of my team," Bruno said with a shrug. "So pack your things and be out of here within the hour," he said as he left the room.  
  
Phil Pistone stood there in a mixture of shock and fury. His eyes narrowed to amber slits as he strode to the door and wrenched it open, stepped out and slammed it full force. "That little bastardo! I'm gonna make him sorry he ever got behind the wheel of a racecar," he promised himself grimly as he headed for his trailer to clean it out. 


	4. Part 4 A SINISTER PLAN

Part 4-A SINISTER PLAN  
  
The High Tides Inn was an exclusive, secluded waterfront inn just to the north of Raytona's city limits. It was an old plantation style building brimming with old South genteel elegance, which catered to the very wealthy who vacationed in the resort town. The proprietor also prided himself on his reputation and in as such, he was the very soul of discretion when it came to the privacy of his guests. This made his inn an ideal place for illicit affairs and shady deals all under the guise of respectability as long as the price was right.  
  
Phil Pistone carried his matched alligator luggage and walked arrogantly to the desk where he rang the bell impatiently. "Avante! Anybody! Come on out here, now!"  
  
A haughty looking middle-aged man with sharp features came out of an office and looked over his glasses disdainfully. "May I help you?" he inquired with a hint of ice.  
  
"Yes, I'd like a room. Preferably one with a view," Pistone commanded.  
  
The man sniffed, "I doubt you can afford to lodge here. We're quite exclusive and--" His next words were cut off as he viewed the large wad of money Pistone casually took out of his jacket pocket. "You did say a room with a view, didn't you sir?" he purred obsequiously.  
  
Pistone chuckled snidely at the way the snobbish man changed his tune. It never failed, just the sight of cold, hard, cash was enough to melt any human iceberg whether it was a ice-princess beauty queen or a snooty innkeeper. The latter summoned a bellboy to retrieve Pistone's luggage.  
  
"Take Mr. Pistone to room 209," the innkeeper ordered as the bellboy picked up the bags.  
  
As Pistone and the steward passed the lobby area, a man with a newspaper surreptitiously watched them go by. He was especially interested in the tall Italian racer who was in the process of following the bellhop up the sweeping staircase. Tossing the paper aside, he jumped to his feet and laid his hand on Pistone's shoulder.  
  
"Mr. Pistone?"  
  
Pistone whirled around and skewered the man with a glare. "Si. And what do you want?"  
  
The mysterious man smiled. "I understand that you are in need of a ride."  
  
Pistone sneered, "Good news she travels fast, uh? So what?"  
  
"My name is Fixer and my partner Mr. Wiley would like to speak to you. Do you have a minute?" Fixer asked politely.  
  
Pistone was about to refuse when he remembered that Wiley was the millionaire who owned the Alpha Racing Team. His eyes lit up in interest. "I may. Where is he?"  
  
"Up in his suite. May I escort you there?"  
  
Pistone smiled, "Lead the way."  
  
The two men climbed the curving grand staircase and Fixer led Pistone to a suite of rooms that were to the right of the stairs. Fixer knocked on the carved oak door and opened the door to let both himself and Pistone in.  
  
A shadowy figure stood silhouetted against the tropical sunlight streaming in through the window and turned to face them. A man, late fifties, in a dark suit contrasting with the pastel décor of the suite set an imposing figure as he regarded the two men.  
  
"Well, well, Mr. Pistone. I'm pleased by the fortuitous circumstances that allowed our paths to cross. Please make yourself at home," Wiley said cordially.  
  
Pistone took a wary seat. "Who are you?" he asked imperiously.  
  
"Forgive my lapse in manners. My name is Wiley. It's a pleasure to meet a man of such great talent."  
  
Pistone was not impressed. "I was told by your partner Wiley, that you wish to speak to me. So let's end all this other foolishness and get to the point."  
  
Wiley smiled blandly. It seemed that the reports of this young man's arrogance were not contrived but he was unfazed. "I have a proposition for you."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I understand that your position with Cannoli Racing has been terminated?" Wiley asked softly.  
  
Pistone's eyes narrowed at the reminder. "That is correct," he replied coldly.  
  
"So you are available to drive for my team?"  
  
Pistone smiled a slow smile that did not reach his eyes. "Ifa the price is right."  
  
Wiley reached to his side and brought out a large black briefcase. He placed it on the coffee table beside Pistone, dialed a combination and the case sprang open, revealing bundles of stacked currency. He withdrew a stack and tossed it toward the Italian racer.  
  
"That should serve as a down payment. So what do you say?"  
  
Pistone gaped at the stack as he thumbed through the bills. "All this to drive for the Alpha Team?"  
  
Wiley smiled grimly. "There is another task I wish you to do. Do you know a lovely young lady by the name of Trixie Shimura?"  
  
Pistone's wariness returned. "I believe she's the spotter for the Go Team. And she's the girlfriend of their driver, Speed Racer." His eyes glittered as he thought of Speed and a burning hatred filled him.  
  
Wiley nodded. "I want you to dispose of Miss Shimura," he commanded quietly.  
  
Pistone felt icy fingers of dread clutch at his spine. As much as he had wanted revenge on Speed, murder was definitely not his style. He handed back the stack of bills.  
  
"Grazie, but I'ma afraid that I'm not interested. I don't want to go to jail so mi scusi." He made to get up but Fixer and another man both forcefully pushed him back down.  
  
Wiley chuckled and Pistone felt as if Satan himself was there in the midst. "You won't, not if you handle it in the proper manner. Accidents do happen you know."  
  
Pistone stared at the man incredulously then stared at the enormous pile of money before him. It beckoned and taunted him, like a siren song and then the added bonus of exacting the most excruciating revenge to Speed, to take away the person that meant the world to him sealed his decision. He smiled slowly as he cast his lot.  
  
"You got a deal."  
  
Wiley smiled a pleased smile. "Splendid. Welcome aboard." He offered his hand to shake and Pistone took it, his deal with the devil complete.  
  
After Pistone left, Wiley picked up the phone and dialed a number. He waited until the line answered. "I need to meet with you about what we spoke of last night. Yes, I did and now I want you to do your part to make sure Speed Racer doesn't interfere with my plans. And remember, I'm paying you well. Yes, I will. Thank you." He hung up the receiver with a smug expression.  
  
At the Raytona Speed Oval driver's area where all the racing teams had their coaches and trailers, Speed stepped out of his and strode over to the one Trixie was housed in. He knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," Trixie's voice called out.  
  
Speed opened the door and walked in. "Hiya, Trix. You disappeared since practice and we had a date. What are ya doin', homework?"  
  
She was seated at the table and had a map and legal pad before her. She was making notes as she studied the map. She glanced up at him briefly then turned back to her task. "Yep. Just getting prepared for the race," she said shortly.  
  
"Ah, I see. Why don't you take a break and go for a ride with me? Sparky fixed up the Mach 5 after the crash and she's good to go. So how about it?"  
  
"I'm busy."  
  
"Yeah, but all work and no play," Speed coaxed as he took a seat right next to her and reached his hand to brush a stray curl from her eyes. But he was dismayed when she moved her head away and scooted away from him, closer to the wall.  
  
"Hey, what gives. You mad at me?" he asked, puzzled. "What'd I do now?"  
  
Trixie sighed as she pushed the pad and pen away and turned to face him. "Speed, can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Sure, shoot." He smiled affectionately at her.  
  
Her eyes bored into his. "Why did you have to file that formal complaint? It really wasn't necessary IRC had already fined Pistone and the Cannoli Team. So why did you?"  
  
Speed's smile faded and he got to his feet as he became somewhat belligerent. "So you're gonna give me grief about it too, huh?" he said acerbically. "You saw what that reptile did to me!"  
  
Trixie got to her feet and right into Speed's face. "Yes, Speed I did. But I think that you should've just let IRC handle the incident and let it go."  
  
Speed folded his arms across his chest obstinately and his face was set in a stubborn scowl. "Save the lecture. Pops reamed me out about the whole thing before. But I would've expected you at least to be on my side, Trixie."  
  
She reached and brushed his hair from his eyes. "Oh Speed, I am on your side. I just hope that what you did doesn't come back to haunt you. These things have a way of coming home to roost," she said sagely.  
  
Speed's expression softened. He took her hand in both of his and kissed it. "Stop worrying, honey. I had to do it or Pistone will just think that he can get away with being a dirty racer. Rules are rules and we all have to follow them."  
  
"Are you sure that's the only reason, Speed?"  
  
"What'd you mean?"  
  
Trixie sighed, "Aren't you just a little vindictive 'cause he was talking to me the other night?"  
  
Speed scowled again as Trixie scored a direct hit. He remembered Pistone asking him where she was before the practice run and how it had infuriated him. But he partially denied it, saying, "That certainly didn't endear him to me. But reporting him had nothing to do with that, what he did to me was illegal to race rules." He continued insisting, "Racing like that could get someone hurt."  
  
Trixie looked unconvinced so Speed changed tact. He slid his arms around her, pulled her against him and gazed into her sea green orbs with his own ocean blue ones. "Listen, I have a great idea. Why don't we just put everyone and everything aside for the moment and concentrate on us?" He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and nuzzled her earlobe, sending a delicious thrill through her senses.  
  
"Speed," she protested weakly.  
  
"Shhh," he whispered, his mouth tracing a fiery path along her shoulder and neck. She sighed contentedly and surrendered to his tender insistent passion.  
  
They were interrupted but a strident seven-year-old summons as Spritle's voice sounded from outside, "Speedy! Trixie!"  
  
Speed groaned in annoyance as he broke away from his girlfriend, "I need to put a muzzle on that kid. He's got the worst timing."  
  
There was a constant banging on the trailer door. "Trixie? Is Speedy in there with you?"  
  
Trixie giggled and said resignedly, "We'd better let him in."  
  
"Do we have to?" Speed pseudo-whined like a little boy.  
  
Trixie threw him a look then opened the door to let the Racer family baby with his ever-present monkey pal in.  
  
"Hi Trixie! Hi Speedy! Whatcha guys doin'? It's a great day to go to the beach, so let's go, huh?"  
  
Speed and Trixie exchanged glances. Then Speed spoke up, "Listen Spritle, Trixie and me have some work to do before the race. So you and Chim Chim go play, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure you both just want to be alone and get all mushy. Yecch!" Spritle wrinkled his nose in distate and Chim Chim mimicked his buddy.  
  
With that remark, Speed's frustration had reached its limit. "Yeah, well if you hate it so much how come every time me and Trixie go out on a ride, you stow away in my trunk, huh?" he snapped his patience thin. "I can't even take my girl for a ride to be alone with her without you tagging along, spying on me. You're the original third wheel."  
  
"Speed," Trixie pleaded as Spritle lowered his head in shame and tears began to flow.  
  
He brushed tears away impatiently. "I-I'm sorry I bothered you." He and Chim Chim scurried to the door.  
  
Trixie threw a reproachful glare at Speed as she went out after the boy. "Hey Spritle, wait up. Speed didn't mean what he said. Honest," she gently reassured him as she knelt down and grasped his small shoulders.  
  
"B-but h-he was so mean, Trixie. I-I don't mean to be a pest, I just like being with you guys so much," Spritle wailed, his tears flowing in earnest as he buried his head in her shoulder, sobbing. Chim Chim patted his back to comfort him.  
  
Speed sighed as he heard Spritle's anguish and he became filled with self- loathing. He exited Trixie's trailer and walked hesitantly over to where his kid brother and girlfriend were huddled and knelt beside them.  
  
"Gee, Spritle, I'm sorry I made you cry. I didn't mean what I said, I was just sore. Will ya forgive me?" Speed asked contritely as he put his hand on his brother's shoulder.  
  
Spritle looked up from Trixie's shoulder sniffling, "I-I forgive you, Speedy." He pulled away and launched himself in his brother's arms. Looking up into his brother's face he asked hopefully, "C-could we go to the beach, Speedy?"  
  
Speed looked at Trixie sighed and shrugged. "Okay, Spritle. Go over to the folks' suite and get your suit on."  
  
"Yea! Groovy!" Spritle crowed happily. He turned to the chimp, "C'mon Chim Chim. We're going to the beach." He took off like a shot, with Chim Chim right behind.  
  
Speed got to his feet and helped Trixie up. "Well, that takes care of the rest of the day," he said in resignation. "What is it they say about the best laid plans?"  
  
Trixie patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Cheer up, it'll be fun."  
  
"Ya think?" Speed said glumly. "Seriously, baby, I wanted to spend the day with you."  
  
"Well, when we come back from taking Spritle to the beach, we can do something," she promised with a twinkle in her eyes.  
  
Speed brightened, "Yeah, how about dinner tonight and then maybe some dancing. Or whatever you want, I know some groovy out of the way places around here."  
  
"Out of the way?"  
  
"Yeah, places that I know we won't be bothered. I found them when I came out here one year for Spring Break. We can have privacy and have a good time at the same time. So how about it, I want to make up for what happened at the press party," Speed said persuasively.  
  
Trixie grinned, "Okay. You got yourself a date." She reached over and kissed him then said, "We'd better get a move on, Spritle will be here any minute."  
  
"Yeah, don't remind me."  
  
They split up and went into their respective trailers to change into bathing suits.  
  
A soft sea breeze was wafting in from the shore that evening at sunset as Speed and Trixie rode the Mach 5 through town, the gentle wind swirling their hair as they tooled along. Speed had the radio on and some Four Tops Motown was drifting up from his speakers and they sat close as usual, shoulder to shoulder.  
  
Speed pulled into a palm tree lined driveway that led to a beachfront bungalow which had a large sign that read Kahuna's Hut. He drove into a parking place and cut the motor.  
  
Trixie glanced around and noticed that there were few cars parked in the lot. "Speed, how'd you find this place? There's hardly anyone here."  
  
Speed grinned, "I found it when I was here last year. The food's great and the atmosphere's really groovy. Kind of like a beach bum's hut like in all those Gidget flicks." He got out of the car and came over to her side to help her out. "C'mon."  
  
They made their way into the place and Trixie looked around. Speed's description was dead on ball accurate, there were fishing nets and lanterns as far as the eye could see. The tables all had different colored citron candles and there were Hawaiian travel posters on the walls. A jukebox was playing some Young Rascals tune and there were few people in the place to match the scant amount of cars outside in the parking lot.  
  
A waiter took two menus and led them to a table that had a fishnet draped decoratively around one side, closing it off from the rest of the room, making the seating somewhat private while they faced the sunset hued beach. Speed assisted Trixie in her chair then he sat across from her and grasped her hand.  
  
"So how do you like it?"  
  
Trixie glanced about. "It certainly has atmosphere," she said smiling. "I gotta hand it to you."  
  
"Told ya. The perfect place for a quiet meal. You hungry?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
They both made their selections, and as the orders came, enjoyed what had become a rarity of late, a nice quiet time together. Conversation flowed from the upcoming race to families, dreams, and the future. Speed found himself as always when with Trixie, mesmerized, drinking in her dulcet tones, her delicate beauty, her bright mind. He had known for a while that he was head over heels in love with her but wanted to move slowly, for both their sakes. He had just turned 19 and he felt the world was his oyster, beginning the racing career that he hoped would take him well into middle age. A serious relationship with a woman was something that he wanted but it wasn't a priority, racing was first. At least that's what he had thought before he met Trixie. Now she was the kind of girl that he thought he would never find, adventurous, unafraid, and at the same time, loyal and supportive. She loved being part of the Go Team and put everything into her role which made him love her even more if it was possible.  
  
For Trixie's part as she conversed with Speed, she found herself in awe of the changes in her life in just the span of a month. The events were occurring and changing at breakneck speed, and she felt at times like she were at the mercy of a whirling vortex, with circumstances constantly in flux. She also found herself placed firmly in the midst of a loving, caring group of people, the likes of which she had never before been privileged to be part. All her life, she had been the proverbial "poor little rich girl", whose mother died when she was a toddler and her father's business had occupied his time. He had wanted to take her with him all the time but it was hardly practical to take a little girl along while he and his fleet of pilots flew for the Formula 1 racing circuit. So she had been left in the care of an au pair until old enough to go to exclusive boarding schools. Summer vacations, however were golden times when she accompanied her father all over the world as he flew for the circuit and her love for racing and flying grew. That was her family life.  
  
There were times that Trixie could hardly believe that she was firmly in the life and circle that included the most talented and celebrated young racer in the circuit, Speed Racer. That she was on his team was incredible enough but to be his girlfriend, and spend tender moments alone with him while he held her close to his heart was like a dream. She loved everything about him but she loved especially his eyes, eyes blue as a warm ocean with a depth and honesty to them that drew her like a moth to a flame. She knew that she was in love with him, and sensed that he was with her but she knew she needed to proceed slowly, for their youthful age was an obstacle that stood as a barrier to pushing things beyond the point of reason. She also knew his family would not want him to settle down so young. And his family had adopted her and made her so much a part of them, they were as dear to her as if she were truly of the same flesh and blood so she did not want rash decisions and unbridled passion to jeopardize her place in their hearts. Since first born son Rex's hasty and bitter departure, Speed had become the family's cause celebre, the Great White Hope and he was eager to live up to, meet, and exceed those expectations. This was something she did not want to infringe upon, Speed and the Racers were too important to her.  
  
When the meal was finished and paid for, Speed led her back to the Mach 5 and then drove her to a nightclub called TROPICA CALIENTE and pulled into a parking place. This place was considerably more crowded and Trixie felt some trepidation as she took Speed's hand, getting an unsettling feeling of déjà vu. But Speed had been so sweet and attentive and he was looking forward to doing some dancing so she kept her fears to herself as she clung to Speed's hand with both of hers.  
  
He must have picked up on her nervousness because as they entered the noisy crowded place, he leaned down and shouted in her ear, "Hey, are you okay?"  
  
Trixie looked up at his concerned face and smiled as she nodded. "I'm fine."  
  
Speed was unconvinced. "Are you sure?"  
  
She nodded again as she perpetuated the lie. "I'm fine, Speed. Really."  
  
He grinned and squeezed her hand as he led her into the multitude of revelers.  
  
They finally found two seats against the wall to the right of the dance floor and sat down. Speed hooked his arm behind the back of Trixie's chair to settle in and get comfortable and to allow his arm to brush against her bare shoulders. He loved the feel of her silky skin and took every opportunity to touch her when he could. Earlier at the beach while Spritle and Chim Chim had given them a brief time alone he had been able to snatch a moment to rub suntan lotion on her back and he had savored the soft smoothness, wishing that his brother was not so close by. Her perfume softly assailed his senses then as it was doing now, sending his mind into a spin, and he determined that later he would pick up with her where he had left off this morning when Spritle had interrupted him. Speed brought his hand up to cup Trixie's shoulder and he gently kneaded it, making her smile up at him.  
  
"That feels good," she said looking up at him, her eyes aglow.  
  
Speed grinned. "Well, there's more where that came from."  
  
He leaned down to capture her lips when a loud feminine voice cried out, "Look, it's Speed Racer!" A gaggle of girls suddenly pushed their way through the crowd and made their way to where Speed and Trixie sat.  
  
"Oooh, It's really you!"  
  
"Isn't he dreamy?"  
  
"Will you give me your autograph?"  
  
"Speed, you are so cool!"  
  
As Speed politely fielded the fan adoration heaping on him, Trixie slipped quietly away, heading for the ladies room. Once in there she grinned at her reflection and said, "Better get used to it, Trix. This is one of the drawbacks of being involved with a major sports celebrity."  
  
She opened her purse and ran a brush through her chestnut curls then freshened her lipstick and gave herself the once over in the mirror. Satisfied, she patted the miniskirt of her pink sundress and headed back out. As she picked her way through the crowd back to where she and Speed had been seated earlier, the smile that had curved her lips froze as her eyes viewed the scene right in front of her. She shook her head and blinked to do a double take to make sure she was actually seeing what her mind was trying to comprehend. Seated in the chair next to Speed she had temporarily vacated was none other than Debbie, dressed in a skin-tight black halter minidress that left very little to the imagination. Like the night of the press party, she had her arms hooked around Speed's neck, purring at him seductively, as his expression was one of mixed emotions.  
  
Trixie debated as what to do. Part of her wanted to vanish among the milling throng, which she was positive, given the size of the crowd, would have gone unnoticed. But with a look of grim determination, she decided that the best route was not to run as before but to face this problem head on. She straightened her shoulders and walked over. "Humph! Am I interrupting anything?"  
  
Speed looked relieved as he disengaged himself and shot to his feet. "Trixie! Baby, where'd you go? I was looking for you." He rushed over to Trixie and slipped his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Yeah, so I see," Trixie said dryly. "Speed, aren't you going to introduce me to your.friend?"  
  
Debbie got to her feet and smiled a saccharine smile that didn't reach the cold violet depths of her eyes. She offered her hand. "I'm Debbie Donne. Me and Speedy are old friends aren't we, lover?"  
  
Trixie graciously took it and was amazed by the brevity of the gesture. She was immediately on guard with the latent hostility emanating from the other woman. "I'm Trixie Shimura. Speed and I have been dating for about three weeks." She slid her arm around his waist possessively and smiled, tossing a gauntlet at the strawberry blonde.  
  
Debbie's eyes narrowed slightly but she smiled her fake smile. "Isn't that sweet? That was about the time I had let Speed down easy because I was headed to Paris for my modeling shoot. Poor Speedy was destroyed, weren't you, honey?"  
  
Speed's eyes widened. "I-I was what?" he said incredulously.  
  
"Destroyed. Now don't try to be brave, I know you, Speed, laughing on the outside, crying on the inside. But you don't have to. I'm sure Tammy doesn't mind do you, dear?"  
  
"It's Trixie."  
  
"Oh I'm sorry," Debbie said with assumed repentance as she smiled her Cheshire Cat smile. "But, really you don't mind if Speedy is himself. He was always himself with me, weren't you?" She sidled up to Speed and brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder as he stood there dumbly and blushed.  
  
Trixie felt her temper rise as Debbie seemed to weave a sensual spell over Speed, whose arm slid from around her. She watched as the other girl bewitched him and her heart sank as she sensed him slipping away. She suddenly felt like an intruder as she felt the sparks between them.  
  
Trixie then watched the strawberry blonde as she broadcast her intentions leaning on Speed's chest, with her batting violet eyes and it took every bit of control she possessed not to want to scratch her eyes out. But the hardest thing for Trixie to deal with was Speed's inertia, he was just standing there in suspended animation while Debbie wove her seductive web. Enough had finally become enough.  
  
"Well, if you'll excuse me," Trixie said with all the iciness she could muster. "But three is definitely a crowd and far be it from me to be part of a crowd!" She whirled on her heel and fled off into the thick throng of people.  
  
Her leaving woke Speed out of his speechless trance. Finally oblivious to Debbie's presence he dove into the crowd, yelling at the top of his lungs over the throbbing dance music, "Trixie! Trixie! Aw, come on come back. Trixie!" leaving a triumphant Debbie behind gloating. She made her way through the crowd to the pay phone and dialed a number.  
  
"I've made sure that you have a clear way to her," she told the party on the other line.  
  
Trixie had somehow made her way to the exit, blinded by the tears that finally fell. She didn't even know that she had reached the outside when she bumped into a broad muscled chest and firm arms with strong hands that grasped her and held her fast, keeping her from going further. She looked up into the handsome face of Phil Pistone with tear-filled eyes.  
  
"Hey, hey now! Such a bellissima face marred with tears. Whatsa matter?" he said soothingly.  
  
Trixie sniffled as she answered, "N-nothing, I-I just want to leave, that's all." She tried to break away but he tightened his hold on her.  
  
"Look, I gotta my car here. Let me taka you home," Pistone said affably as he began to lead her toward the parking lot. He could not believe the stroke of luck to run into Trixie Shimura here. He could carry out Wiley's order to get rid of her tonight by gaining her trust and providing an "accident." He was filled with gleeful anticipation. "Rescuing a lovely lady is my pleasure."  
  
A hand reached out and pulled Trixie away from the Italian racer's grasp. He whirled around in annoyance and was confronted by the solid form of Racer X. A sneer curled his lip.  
  
"Whatta you think you're doing, signore? The lady needs a lift." He reached to take back Trixie's elbow but Racer X skewered him with his eyes as he pulled her away.  
  
"You're too kind Signore Pistone, but I will see to it the lady gets home safely. You needn't trouble yourself," Racer X replied smoothly with a steely glare from his eyes.  
  
Pistone was not a man to take what he perceived as impertinence willingly but his built in sense of self-preservation told him something about the masked man that had him on his guard. This was no man with which to cross swords.  
  
"Very well, signore. I leave her to your capable hands. Good evening, signorina," he nodded shortly then disappeared.  
  
Trixie heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you Racer X. I didn't know what to do."  
  
Racer X smiled, "That's okay, Trixie. But where's Speed? Isn't he here with you?"  
  
Trixie shook her head and then gestured inside. "He's.busy."  
  
Speed, in the meantime, made his way through the nightclub crowd to the door, brushing off fans and pushing himself forward until he finally reached the door. He exited and headed at a dead sprint toward the parking lot then stopped short as he spotted his girlfriend and the masked racer. He hurried over, out of breath.  
  
"Trixie, why'd you cut out on me like that?" he wanted to know as he caught his breath. He eyed her in mild annoyance.  
  
"Humph! Like you even noticed. I got the feeling I was in the way so I split."  
  
"What are you talking about? Of course I noticed, I came right after you. So what are you doing here." he asked as he tossed his head toward Racer X, "with him?"  
  
Racer X spoke up, "Speed, Pistone was here and he was about to take Trixie home but I stopped him."  
  
Speed's eyes narrowed to sapphire slits. "That joker's got a hell of a lot of nerve." He turned on Trixie. "And you were just gonna go with him?"  
  
Trixie bristled and she raised her chin. "I acted the same way you acted when Debbie was hanging all over you," she spat. "I didn't know what to say and then Racer X came and got me."  
  
Speed's expression changed to one of grudging gratitude. "Thanks again, Racer X for rescuing Trixie and thanks for the other night. She told me that you got her back safely. I'm grateful."  
  
Racer X smiled, "Glad to help. Have a pleasant evening." He headed into the parking lot.  
  
Speed watched him go then noticed Trixie had turned her back to him. He became filled with a burning in his gut that pushed him to make amends and approached her hesitantly. "Trix?"  
  
Trixie remained ramrod straight, her back to him and silent. Speed sighed, realizing that it wasn't going to be easy. He walked up to her and grasped her shoulders gently. "Not that I don't deserve it, but are you gonna stick me in the deep freeze all night?"  
  
Trixie shrugged her slender shoulders. "I should. You were frozen like an iceberg when that tramp had her hands all over you. I thought you were nailed to the floor," she sniffed.  
  
Speed turned her around and took her chin in his hand to raise her eyes to meet his. "You're right. You're completely and totally right and I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should've set Debbie straight from the get-go. Forgive me?" he pleaded, his blue eyes wide.  
  
Trixie's pretty face was doubtful but she felt herself drawn irresistibly into his earnest moonlit cobalt orbs and her anger and hurt dissipated like smoke in the wind. "Yes, Speed I forgive you," she replied demurely.  
  
Speed enfolded her in his corded arms. "You're the best, Trix." He cupped her face in his hands and brought his mouth to hers in a deep lingering kiss, parting her lips so he could taste her sweetness.  
  
They remained so entangled until Trixie pulled away remembering where they were. "I guess we never got to dance," she remarked breathlessly.  
  
"Yeah, but I got a better idea. How about that moonlight drive you owe me," Speed said persuasively as he pulled Trixie into the parking lot and over to the Mach 5. He opened the passenger door and helped her in, went over and leapt into the driver's seat, fired up the vehicle and then peeled off into the soft tropical night. 


	5. Part 5 IN THE PAPERS

Part 5-IN THE PAPERS 

The next morning dawned with bright hot sunlight streaming down on the Raytona Speed Oval, the big road rally only 24 hours away. The drivers were busy doing practice laps around the speedway, their crews were hard at work adjusting engines and tire pressure, calculating fuel mileage, and other pre pre-race preparations. The Go Team was no different, using the wind tunnel to determine and improve aeropush of the Mach 5, making it even faster. Although this race was a road rally, the information gathered would serve them in other races during the coming season.

The test was drawing to a close when Trixie came over to where Sparky was getting his readings. She glanced at the printout as Sparky perused through it.

"Well, Sparky, how'd it go?"

Sparky glanced over at Trixie. "So far the Mach 5 is proving to be head and shoulders above the crowd. Should be a terrific season for us, the readings were all above average."

Trixie's pretty visage lit up delightedly as she watched Speed pull the Mach 5 out of the tunnel, drive over, park it, then stride over to where she and Sparky stood. He wrapped his arm about her and leaned in to steal a kiss, then peered at the printout. His face registered pleased satisfaction.

"Well, everything's lookin' real good if this printout's right. We should nail this race without a doubt," Speed said confidently.

"Yeah, man, it looks like the other cars shouldn't even bother showin' up," Sparky added.

"You guys should see someone about your lack of self-esteem. It's really a problem," Trixie said satirically.

Speed and Sparky exchanged glances and then burst into laughter. Trixie joined them with her melodic giggles.

Their mirth was interrupted by an irate Pops, who came storming over to the group of young adults brandishing several newspapers. "Well, I'm glad that somebody's having a good time because the Go Team just got hit by an earthquake!" He strode up and threw the papers at them. "Take a look."

The trio stopped laughing and looked quizzically at the papers. The front of the sports section was covered in pictures from the press junket the other night, spotlighting several of the racers in the Raytona Road Rally, but the most prominent was one of Speed and the girl Debbie whose arms were wrapped around his neck possessively. The caption read: Rookie Racing Sensation Speed Racer Gets The Congratulations From Supermodel Debbie Donne Before He Gets The Checkered Flag. Another paper had the same picture with the caption Supermodel and Super Racer Steam Up Windows At Seacoast Beach Club and Dance Floor at Tropica Caliente. But the kicker was the front page of the local gossip tabloid, where the headline read: ROOKIE RACER ROUNDS CURVES OF SUPERMODEL-EXCLUSIVE INSIDE!

Speed was totally dumfounded, utter shock registering on his sculptured features, his eyes wide in astonishment. He skimmed through the articles and they all relayed his past relationships, insinuating that he was not only fast on the racetrack but fast with the ladies as well. And the tabloid, The National Insinuator which had boasted the exclusive, had a two-page spread in the paper that had Debbie saying that she and Speed were not only involved, but relayed a graphic description of an intensely intimate relationship.

Sparky made a low whistle. "Wow, Speed, they really took it to you."

Pops snorted, "Yeah, and now your reputation has created some problems with our sponsor. They want a wholesome image for their paper products and they called and were about to cancel their sponsorship. It took some quick thinking and smooth talking by me to convince them to give us another chance but believe me it wasn't easy. And without them, we can forget about racing this season because we have no money other than the factory. And you also represent my factory, Speed. How can I sell cars to families when my son is written about as a deviant?"

Speed blinked twice, words at a loss. He then looked at Trixie, who had been silent and remote, her eyes peeled to the newspapers before them. He gently touched her shoulder and was surprised then dismayed when she knocked his hand away and stepped back.

"Please don't touch me," she said softly and coldly. She turned to Pops. "Pops, I'll be cleaning out my trailer and leaving within an hour." She glared at Speed with eyes filled with tears of betrayal as she made to leave but Pops detained her.

"Trixie, please don't. Don't leave now, we have the race tomorrow, we need you," he pleaded as he threw a reproachful look at his middle son.

Trixie looked into Pops face and brushed her hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears. "A-all right, Pops. I'll stay for you. But only for you!" she cried as she ran the way to her trailer.

"Trixie, wait!" Speed called as he made to sprint after her but Pops laid a beefy hand to keep him.

"Leave her alone, Speed. We need her for tomorrow's race and right now in her present mood, she'll leave and we can't let that happen."

Speed looked like he had been sucker punched. He was in a stunned state, his eyes staring bleakly in space. "Yeah, yeah, okay. I won't go near her," he promised tonelessly as he slowly walked away, shoulders slumped in defeat.

It was late afternoon and Trixie opened her eyes to the sun streaming in from the window. After the upsetting events from the morning, she had locked herself in the trailer, and threw herself on the bed, crying hysterically as she dealt with the harsh reality that shattered her dream. She shunned lunch with the Racers, saying she was not feeling well but the truth was she couldn't eat for the cold hole in the pit of her stomach. Fact also was, she was furious with Speed, but she was angrier with herself for being blind, for based on what she had observed between him and Debbie, it was obvious that they had had an intimate relationship. She was foolish to think that he had been celibate before, the career he was in was too high profile for that to be the case. Still, it hurt like a hot, dull knife plunging deep into her heart to think of him being tender with anybody else. And Debbie Donne was a supermodel-a beautiful, desirable girl of any man's dreams. How did you think to compete with that? she had chided herself bitterly as the tears lulled her into an uneasy sleep.

Trixie sat up and listlessly threw her legs over the edge. Her eyes fell on a framed photograph that sat on the shelf by the door, a picture that had become her talisman since it was taken. Speed had told her when he gave it to her that it was a picture of him with the two most important women in his world. Sparky had taken the picture one day at the practice track of her and Speed, he with one arm resting on the Mach 5, the other looped around her shoulders as he grinned into the camera with his classically handsome visage. She had been looking up at him in adoration and that was how the photo was snapped. She recalled how she had been so happy that day, her place on the Go Team secured and her relationship with Speed growing closer and prospering. And her relationship with the Racers in general was as if she were the daughter they never had. Mom Racer especially had taken to her and they had become extremely close, like an actual mother and daughter.

Trixie sighed as she rose from the bed and took a seat at the table and idly leafed through the notes she had been taking on the course for the rally tomorrow. But the heart for the task had completely gone out of it for her, before it had been a labor of love. Yes, she loved Speed, loved him with all her heart and she would do anything, anything in her power to help him succeed. At least she would have before the walls came crashing down earlier.

Trixie frowned thoughtfully as she sat there and despondently pondered her options. She knew she had assured Pops that she'd remain with the team. She had signed a contract with Pops MotorSports to spot for the entire Formula 1 season and she was not a person to shirk her responsibility or commitment. But being near Speed everyday, as well as having to have constant contact with him she knew would be difficult if not impossible, given their close and intensely personal relationship. Would she be able to act in a cool professional manner and put her feelings aside? Could she stand to be so near to him and work with him knowing that when he left the track, he'd be heading to spend time with someone else? She began to highly doubt that she could, so she ripped the notes off the pad to get to a clean sheet and began to write.

Back at the track, Speed was running laps in the Mach 5 to get ready for the rally in the morning. But his thoughts were on the incredible turn of events that had taken place earlier, and the repercussions they had wrought making him wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning. Speed brooded about the articles in the various newspapers, turning his world inside out. He was feeling a myriad of emotions, shock, fury, and a deep and heavy sadness at the way Trixie reacted, feeling like something rare and precious was slipping from his fingers and he was powerless to stop it. The look on her face had torn him apart inside, and her refusal to see or speak to him was adding insult to injury, like rubbing salt into a new wound. Her absence from the noon meal had depressed him further and filled him with guilt. He was filled with a feeling of total despair.

The Mach 5 rumbled up to where Sparky was waiting. Speed cut the motor and after removing his helmet, hoisted himself over the side to exit the cockpit. He brushed his hair back out of his eyes and sighed, "Well how'd everything look?"

"Whattya mean you or the car?" Sparky quipped.

Speed glared at him. "The car, bright boy. I don't particularly care what your assessment of me is at this time."

"Well, like it or not, I'm gonna give you both. The car as usual is spectacular, looking as good as she can. You, on the other hand, look like you got hit with a ton of bricks and you barely survived."

"Thank you for that wonderful description. Now if the diagnosis is over, doctor, could I please get the hell out of here. I need to think." Speed made to leave but Sparky grabbed his arm to stop him.

"And where are you going?"

Speed looked at Sparky as if he were from another world. "Why do you want to know? You afraid I'll do something rash? Well relax, all I'm gonna do is crash for a while then maybe take a ride. I'm a big boy and I don't need a nursemaid," he snapped.

"Speed, you're not yourself right now. I don't think you should be alone," Sparky insisted.

"Give me a break, Spark! I'm okay and I need some time to figure out what I'm gonna do about this whole mess. As a matter of fact, forget the nap, I'm splitting, see ya later." He climbed back into the Mach 5 and fired the motor, revving it energetically.

Sparky vaulted over the passenger side as Speed eyed him coolly. "Well, in that case, I'm going with you."

Speed shook his head in disgust. "Fine, suit yourself," he sighed resignedly as he shifted gears and screeched away in a cloud of dust.

At sunset, Trixie approached the Racer family trailer with great trepidation, holding a white envelope. She had spent all afternoon weighing her options and figuring her next move, and came to a very difficult decision. Trixie knew that Pops would be in the trailer since the whole family took their meals there to save money even though they lodged in the suites at the track. She knocked tentatively at the door, hoping Speed wouldn't open it and was relieved when Mom Racer answered.

"Hello, Trixie, dear. How are you feeling, we all missed you at lunch." Mom Racer opened the door then turned around and faced the stove, stirring the pot of stew she had prepared for dinner.

"Oh, okay, thanks." Trixie looked around. "Where is everybody?"

Mom bent down and checked the biscuits baking in the oven. "Well, Pops is in the garage making a last minute check of fuel and tires, Spritle and Chim Chim are playing out back and Speed and Sparky have gone out for a ride-that's what they told Pops," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh I see. Well, I want to talk to Pops so maybe I'll go out to take a walk over to the garage," Trixie said as she turned to leave but Mom halted her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be here soon for dinner," Mom stated as she finished stirring the pot. "Trixie, dear, I'd like to talk to you. I know all about those articles in the paper and what they said about Speed and that girl and how you reacted to them." Mom gestured to a chair with her other hand. "Please sit down."

Out of regard and respect Trixie did as she was told. She sat docilely at the table with her head down as Mom joined her, sitting across from her. She dreaded hearing what Mom would say, knowing deep down that Speed was Mom's son, her own flesh and blood and Mom would defend him no matter what, putting Trixie at a disadvantage.

Mom Racer reached over and took Trixie's hand. "I want to tell you something and I hope you'll let me say what I have to before you decide to do something that you and everybody will regret." She nodded at the white envelope that Trixie had placed on the table. "Your resignation I assume?"

Trixie swallowed nervously as she nodded. "I feel that it's best for everyone that I leave the Go Team," she said miserably, tears stinging her eyes.

Mom patted her hand and looked deeply into Trixie's eyes, unnerving her. Her eyes were so like Speed's and like she found herself with his, she was instantly drawn in.

Trixie, dear, do you remember the night you were attacked?"

Trixie nodded, her tears flowing unabated. How could she forget? That would be one night that she would remember as long as she lived, she still had nightmares about it.

"Well, let me tell you that night after he came back from seeing you at National Hospital Speed was beside himself. He was so worried and afraid for you that night he couldn't sleep."

"H-he couldn't?"

"No, he couldn't. And I heard him milling about in the kitchen at 2 AM so I came down to see if he was all right. Trixie, in all the 19 years I've known and watched him, I had never seen him as upset as he was that night. He was shattered."

Trixie studied Mom Racer closely. "Really?"

Mom nodded, "Trixie, he's my son and I know him better than anyone. Speed told me that night how much you meant to him and he had only known you for three days at the time. I know that he adores you and it's not just infatuation, his feelings are genuine."

"B-but why didn't he speak up when that reporter and photographer were there at the press party? And why didn't he say anything last night at the discotheque?" Trixie asked glumly.

Mom smiled, "Trixie, let me teach you something about men. Living in a house full of them makes me somewhat of an expert. They have tremendous egos that need continuous stroking and when women fall all over them, they lose sight of everything else. Believe me, it's true especially when obviously attractive women do, they really lose it then."

"They do?"

"Oh yes my dear. I had to deal with it all the time before Dragon and I got married. He was the captain of the West Side Grunters and Groaners and there were gads of attractive women flocking around him before and after matches and meets, it was disgusting."

Trixie's eyes widened. "How'd you deal with it?"

Mom sat back thoughtfully and answered, "I told him when I knew he was serious about me that he couldn't encourage other girls if he wanted me, that he couldn't have his cake and eat it too. I told him that if it was freedom he wanted, that I would bow out"

"Did it work?"

"It sure did. One thing about Racer men, when it looks like they're about to lose something, they grab hold and don't let go. It was true with Pops and after the boys were born, it was true with all of them. The fights I used to have to break up because Rex beat Speed in something or Speed beat Spritle. They all hate to lose."

Trixie nodded in understanding. "So when they think they're losing something, they really dig their heels in?"

Mom nodded sadly, "Look at what happened with my oldest son. When Pops told him he couldn't race again, Rex turned and left the family, he wasn't going to let go of his dream."

"Speed has the same dream," Trixie pointed out.

"Yes, but he also has you. Rex had gone with different girls but there wasn't one special one, besides, he was too busy with racing. Speed, on the other hand with his looks, has attracted girls to him since he was 13 but no girls were special enough until you came along, Trixie. This Debbie was just one of a long line of girls he had seen last year when he began to get notice as a racer and I know she didn't mean anything to him."

"How can you be so sure? Did you read what she said? And you should've seen how he just stood there at the press party and last night while she hung all over him," Trixie recounted.

"Trixie, Speed's major flaw is he hates to hurt others, making it easy for women especially to walk all over him. He also likes to be the hero all the time. He gets that from his father. And in some ways he's still very much a boy, he needs to grow up."

Trixie sighed, "I'm beginning to see that in him."

Mom got to her feet to take the biscuits out of the oven. She then opened the pot to stir it again and then reached up to get the dishes for dinner. She turned to regard Trixie with her steady cornflower blue gaze.

"Well, what will you do, Trixie? Will you 'throw in the towel' as Pops says?"

Trixie sighed and she replied, "I'm gonna stick it out. I made a commitment to Pops and I'm gonna stand by it. I'll just handle Speed differently. Nothing personal, all business."

Mom smiled, "I think that's wise and I'm happy to hear that. My son may not realize it but he needs you." She reached in a drawer for silverware while she changed the subject. "You need to have dinner, you skipped lunch so please help me set the table."

Trixie grinned, "Will do." She got up and began to set the table as Pops, Spritle, and Chim Chim entered the trailer.

Dinner was pleasant but Speed and Sparky were conspicuously absent, Pops stating that the two had taken off for a ride and didn't know when they would be back. Trixie was secretly relieved that Speed wouldn't be there, for although she had decided to continue in her job with the team, she wasn't quite ready to confront him. After dinner, Trixie got to her feet and cordially addressed the Racers.

"Thanks ever so for everything you guys. And thanks especially Mom Racer." She reached and planted a kiss on the cheek of the Racer matriarch.

"It's my pleasure, sweetie. You can come to me any time you need to talk," Mom Racer said.

Pops said, "You all ready for tomorrow, Trixie?"

"Uh-huh. I just have to be up early tomorrow to do a final check on the helicopter and fuel it up but then I'll be ready to go."

"Okay. You need to touch base with Speed before the race, you know," Pops informed her with a wary eye.

Trixie smiled bravely. "I will, Pops, good night, everyone," she promised and waved as she headed out.

Pops returned the wave then sighed as he spoke to his wife. "Anyi, I hope that she stays with us. She's a great pilot, just like her old man was. I hope Speed hasn't blown it for himself or for the team."

Mom just smiled as she patted her husband's shoulder reassuringly. Neither noticed the white envelope still lying on the table with "Pops" written in delicate script.

On the seamier side of Raytona, way down by the docks was a broken-down bungalow that housed a dive known as the PIRATES COVE. It was a place that usually attracted the most questionable members of humanity, or those who associated with them. But because it was obscure and out of the way, it was the place for Speed to disappear temporarily. And given his present foul mood, Speed wanted to disappear.

The interior of the bar was decorated in the most hideous faded paper Japanese lanterns and tattered fishnets. A jukebox that looked as if it were ready for the Smithsonian stood in the corner and the tables and chairs were all battered and worn.

Sparky glanced around and commented, "Boy, you sure know the best places, buddy."

Speed pinned him with a glare. "I didn't come here as part of a sightseeing tour, Sparky so cut the comedy." He strode up to the bar took a seat and slapped a bill on the counter. "Gimme a beer."

The bartender was a beefy bald man and had a face that appeared as if it was made of rough-hewn stone. He took the bill and put a bottle before Speed who picked it up and downed half of it.

Sparky said, "Whoa there, buckaroo. Take your time there, the night's young."

"What're you, my mother?" Speed said sardonically. He finished the beer and then slapping down another bill said to the bartender, "Another beer and keep 'em comin'."

Sparky shook his head. It was going to be one hell of a night.

Two hours and several bottles of beer later, Speed and Sparky were sitting at one of the tables, beer bottles lined up before the two men like a platoon. Speed was completely smashed, slouched in his chair, red neck scarf all crooked and his cobalt irises were swimming in a sea of red. He had not eaten since lunch and the alcohol gave him an immediate buzz, allowing him the pseudo-impression of relief to deaden the ache in his heart. He engaged Sparky in a one-way conversation.

"Ya know, Spark, Trixie's all wrong. She don't unnerstan' that I gotta be gracious to everybody for my career. I'm gonna be the best racer inna world and I can't make emenies."

"Enemies."

"Yeah, right, thass what I said. Anyway, she has to know I'm crazy about her. She's the bess thing that ever happened to me. I think about her alla time." Speed slurred as he took another swig.

"You ever tell her, Speed?"

Speed stared off into space, as he pondered, "Not in so many words but hell, Sparky she's gotta know it. I mean, I ain't been with no girls since I been wif her. But wha's the use, I lost her now." He stumbled to his feet and lurched over to the jukebox, then reached in his back pocket for some change. He put some coins in the machine and made some selections, all sad love songs. He played Since I Fell For You, This 'Ol Heart Of Mine, When A Man Loves A Woman, I Could Never Love Another After Loving You, I Wish That It Would Rain, I know I'm Losing You, The Girl Don't Care, Oh How It Hurts, and then he found the song that just said it all for him, "Since ILost My Baby" by the Temptations. Speed played it once, then played it over and over, singing along with it.

Both Sparky and the bartender watched with a mixture of amusement and pity as the sodden young man poured his heart out in off-key song. Speed was on the umpteenth chorus when the door opened and some men entered the broken-down tavern and approached the bar. Speed was too into his misery and alcohol-soaked performance to notice that one of the men was none other than Phil Pistone. Fixer and two of Wiley's strongmen accompanied him.

Pistone sat on a stool at the bar, ordered a beer and watched the spectacle Speed was making of himself with disgust. Speed had always maintained a squeaky clean reputation and now it appeared that everything he and his family had built was between the newspaper articles and his present behavior was falling apart. But unaware of anything but his own sense of loss and desolation, he just continued serenading the small group in the dive.

Finally, Pistone had had enough. He got up and strode over to the inebriated young racer and stared him down, man to man.

"Looka, Racer, give it a rest. You suck as a singer, stick to racing. Although after I beat you tomorrow, maybe you should find a new job."

Speed glowered at him. Even as drunk as he was, the sight of Pistone's smirk was like he had ice water thrown in his face. He became coldly furious and amazingly sober as adrenaline began to surge through him.

"Pistone, maybe it'll be you that needs to find a new job after tomorrow. 'Cause I'm gonna make sure I not only win but that I will humiliate you." He turned and addressed the beefy bartender, "Hey fella, you really gotta watch who you let in here. I thought there's a law in this state that forbids bringing animals into places that serve food and drink."

Pistone's eyes narrowed to amber slits. His hands balled into fists as he faced Speed. "How dare you call me an animale! You little snot- nosed bastardo, it'sa time you learned how to respect your betters." He squared off with Speed who was only too happy to oblige.

He smiled unpleasantly. "Oh yeah? I guess you want to be my teacher, huh? Well, c'mon, teach, I'm waitin'!"

The two thugs with Fixer made to rise but he raised his hand up. "Leave 'em be. This is Pistone's fight." The two men sat down and with Fixer watched the proceedings.

Pistone grinned evilly and swung his left fist at Speed's head. Speed ducked easily and feinted as he buried his right fist into Pistone's belly, causing the man to make a harsh "Whoof" before he recovered and parried with a right of his own that knocked Speed into a setting of table and chairs. Spurred on by his rage and because of his youth and top physical condition, Speed recovered handily and charged at the Italian racer like a bull, the momentum taking both men into another group of chairs. Speed grabbed Pistone by the collar of his expensive silk shirt and slammed him into the wall, then delivered a left cross to his jaw, sending Pistone into the bottom of the bar. He lay there trying to rise but Speed aimed a kick right under his chin, sending the man sprawling on his back.

"Well, have ya had enough or do ya want some more?" Speed taunted as he stood at the ready, fists up.

Pistone sat up groggily, amazed that the once besotted young man was able to deliver such a beating. He leapt to his feet to do battle again but Fixer who had been watching from a neutral corner came to him to restrain him.

"Okay, you two, tha's enough! Now get the hell outta here both of ya or I'm callin' the cops," the bartender bellowed.

Fixer and the two men got up and strode over to the bar. He reached into his pocket and laid several bills on the counter. "That won't be necessary, we're leaving. That should be more than enough to cover the damages. Let's go, Phil." He wrapped an arm around the unsteady Pistone and flanked by the other two, walked him to the door.

Sparky, who had also stayed on the sideline took the hint and went over to Speed. "C'mon champ, let's split too before he changes his mind." He glanced over at the glaring bartender.

"Yeah, sure, Spark," Speed said stumbling a bit. Now that the fight was over and his adrenaline level dropped, the alcohol again took hold. They exited the bar and he lurched over to where the Mach 5 was parked. He began to get into the driver's side.

Sparky restrained him and took the key. "Oh no ya don't, pal. I'm driving us home so we'll get there in one piece. If you total the Mach 5, there goes your racing career and Pops'll probably disown you." He led Speed over to the passenger side and helped him in. Speed curled himself on the side and closed his eyes as he passed out.

Sparky shook his head then rounded the car to climb behind the wheel. He started the motor and began the long ride to the track. As he drove along, he glanced at his buddy in sympathy, seeing Speed looking incredibly innocent in repose and realizing how very young he still was, in spite of his journeys into manhood. All of them, him, Speed, and Trixie were barely adults and there were times their youth would show itself. Everything sometimes was just to big for them to handle.

Twenty minutes later, Sparky pulled the Mach 5 into the racers' trailer area at the speedway. Speed was still out, murmuring unintelligibly as they crept past Trixie's trailer and over to the one they were sharing.

Sparky cut the engine and lights as he reached over to shake Speed's shoulder. "Okay, pal, last stop. Up an' at 'em."

Speed groaned and turned himself closer to the door. Sparky sighed, exited the cockpit and went over to the passenger side to try again to rouse his napping comrade.

"Let's go, Speed. You gotta get some shuteye, the race is less then eleven hours away."

"Trixie, baby," Speed slurred. "I.love.you." He hugged himself as he turned again.

Sparky opened the door and grabbed Speed by the arm. "Okay, loverboy, let's get a move on. C'mon, now." He hoisted Speed to his feet and in a semi-conscious state he just followed Sparky's lead.

They made it to the trailer door and Sparky reached to open it when it swung open and a very irate Pops stood with his bulk silhouetted against the light from inside.

"Well, well! And where the hell have you two been, huh? Or let me take a guess," Pops said caustically as he surveyed the condition of his middle son. The two stumbled past him and into the trailer where Sparky unloaded Speed into a chair by the table and took a seat. Speed sat there crouched over the table, moaning with his head in his hands while Pops stood before him immense like Mount Everest and just as foreboding.

"Okay, Speed, start talking. Why are you in such shape? What possessed you to go out and get this plastered the night before a race, huh?" He shook his son's shoulder roughly. "Answer me, damnit!"

Speed brushed his father's hand away. "I don't want to talk about it now, Pops."

It was as if Speed had stirred a hornet's nest. Pops became apoplectic as his fury reached epic proportions, his eyes bulging with disbelief.

"You don't want to talk about! You don't want to talk about it? Well, let me tell you one thing, my son. You'd better grow up, get your act together and get your head outta your ass or you gonna find yourself out of racing for good! And that's not a threat, that's a fact!" Pops railed. "Now, I'm going to bed and you'd better too, we got a race to run tomorrow!" He then spun on his heel and stormed out slamming the door.

Speed cringed as the door banged shut. "I'm glad he's gone." He stared ahead and his eye caught the white envelope that had been lying on the table since dinner. He picked it up and immediately recognized Trixie's delicate script. "What's this?" he asked as he tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents. He began to read:

Dear Pops,

Due to the difficult circumstances that exist within the team I regret to inform you that effective immediately I am resigning my position as spotter with the Go Team. It pains me to do this but under the present situation I feel I have no choice. At the conclusion of the race tomorrow, I will be vacating my trailer and returning home.

I would also like to thank you for making me a part of your family. I deeply appreciated everything you and your family did to help me through an extremely difficult time. For that, you will all hold a very special part in my heart.

I wish the very best to you and the Go Team for the coming racing season.

Sincerely,

Trixie Shimura

Speed's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he read it again, thinking himself in the midst of some bizarre nightmare, his vision blurring and giving him a feeling of surrealism. He shook his head to clear it and realizing that it was not a dream, bolted to his feet and out the door.

Sparky, who had been half-asleep in the chair he was sprawled in, jerked to awareness as he spotted Speed leave. "Hey, Speed, what gives?" he asked as he got up and picked up the letter Speed had discarded as he took off. He skimmed through it and his spirits sank.

Speed sprinted over to Trixie's trailer and he pounded on her door. "Trixie! Trixie! Open the door, I want to talk to you! Trixie!"

The door flew open and a bleary Pops greeted him. "What in the foggy blue mornin' is going on? Huh?" He opened his eyes wider and regarded his distressed middle son. "Speed? You're supposed to be in bed, do ya mind telling me what the hell's going on?"

"Pops, where's Trixie?" Speed demanded frantically. Could she already be gone?

"Whattya mean where's Trixie? She's staying in the suite with your mother tonight. I wanted to make sure I was up early and I wanted to be closer to the garage so we switched."

"Thanks, Pops," Speed said as he turned and raced over to the track lodging building. Pops shook his head and went back into the trailer.

Speed got to the building and not waiting for the elevator, wrenched open the door to the stairwell and bounded up to the third floor, taking the stairs two at a time. He reached the number of the suite that his family was housed in. He wrapped on the door insistently and a sleepy Mom Racer opened the door.

"Speed? What's the problem? Oh my!" she exclaimed upon seeing his bloodshot eyes. "Speedy, you look terrible!"

Speed pushed past his mother. "Mom, where's Trixie? I have to talk to her." He glanced all around and opened his mouth to call for her but Mom placed a finger over his mouth.

"Shhh, Speed, you're going to wake Spritle," Mom hissed in a whisper. "If you'll stay out here and be quiet, I'll go tell her."

"Thanks Mom," Speed whispered back. "Please tell her it's important."

As Mom disappeared into a bedroom and closed the door, Speed found himself praying. "Please, God, let her talk to me. I gotta keep her from leaving." The door opened and as quickly as it caught his heart sank as his mother came out and approached him.

"I'm sorry, Speedy but she says that she doesn't want to talk to you now but she did say that she would talk to you tomorrow."

"But, Mom--," Speed pleaded, but his mother was firm. She pushed her protesting son to the door, opened it and pushed him out.

"Now you need to go to bed. You have a race to drive and you need your rest. Good night, son," she said closing the door.

Speed sighed and in frustration banged his forehead on the wall. He turned to head down the hall when another suite opened and Racer X stepped out into the corridor. He smiled a greeting.

"Well, Speed, you're up early or late to bed. Which one is it?" Racer X commented. He glanced at the red-rimmed eyes and look of desolation on the young man's face. "Looks like you've been staring at the bottom of some beer bottles tonight."

Speed was suddenly very tired. "With all due respect Racer X, if you're gonna hassle me, I'm really not in the mood," he said shortly and made to move past but found his arm gently but firmly grasped. He glared at Racer X. "What's the big idea?"

"Speed, I want to talk to you. Come into my room," Racer X requested in a manner that was not accepting of a negative answer. He pulled the youth into his suite and pushed him onto the plush sofa in the parlor of the suite. He took a wooden chair and straddled it as he sat before Speed.

Speed looked up at him in expectancy. "What'd ya have on your mind?"

"Speed," Racer X began. "Have you any idea of how much you have?"

"What're you getting at?" Speed asked, puzzled.

"I'm saying this. You are very fortunate. You have a budding career, a wonderful, loving, supportive family, a loyal best friend, and a bright, beautiful girl who worships you. You're very blessed."

"I know this so what's your point?" Speed said a tad arrogantly, arms folded across his chest.

Racer X sighed, "Like I said, you're blessed. But you also need to use your head more. There are those in this business that like the limelight so much that they'll do anything to get recognition. And there are parasites in this business like no others."

"I know this."

"You say you do but by the way you've been behaving, you show me that you don't really. You've let a girl use you for her own selfish ambitions, put the team in turmoil, your career in jeopardy, and you're on the verge of losing the woman you love." Racer X recounted.

"Thanks for the recap," Speed said, yawning.

Racer X lost his patience. "Look, you can act like a spoiled brat getting another lecture or you can listen up and use the brains God gave you. You need to start seeing people for what they are, not what they appear to be. There are some real phonies out there, not everybody is deserving of your kindness."

He got Speed's attention. "How can you tell the difference?"

Racer X replied, "Users are the greatest flatterers. Especially very pretty women, they know exactly how to get what they want. And Speed, in racing, the woods are full of 'em. You need to be wary."

Speed studied the masked racer intently. "Did you have to deal with all this when you started racing?" he wanted to know.

"Speed, every racer who wants to be a success has to. But success can be a double-edged sword, it can cut a path for you and cut a path through you, you just have to know how to use it."

Speed sat there nodding. "Thanks, Racer X. I'm sorry about my attitude, everything just gets to me sometimes. Pops is always lecturing me and Sparky and sometimes even Trixie gives it to me. I just get tired of getting it from all sides," he admitted.

Racer X contemplated his brother. "Speed, do you know that your family name is well respected in racing circles?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, then you know that as the driver representing them, you have a great responsibility to them, and to Pops Motors to be at your best in every way. Others are always watching because of Pops and his reputation so now as his son, it falls on you, it's your destiny," Racer X pointed out.

Speed nodded yawning. It seemed that the night's activities had finally caught up to him. Racer X got up and replaced his chair. "Okay, lecture's over. I have an idea, Speed why don't you just crash here on my couch. You need to get some rest and I have an extra pair of PJs so whattya say?"

Speed nodded again. "Okay." He was falling asleep so Racer X bent down and removed Speed's shoes and socks, then swung his legs up onto the sofa. He went into the bedroom and got an extra pillow to place under his sibling's head, then threw a blanket over him. Speed murmured something and curled up on his side, snoring softly.

Racer X chuckled, "Good night, little brother." He reached and flipped the light off then retired to the bedroom closing the door.


	6. Part 6 BEFORE THE RACE BEGINS

Part 6-BEFORE THE RACE BEGINS  
  
It was finally here, raceday, and the racing teams beat the sun this early morning, already hard at work preparing for the rally. The Go Team was no different, all members diligently doing their jobs to prepare the Mach 5 to go the distance and win. Sparky was beneath the chassis, making last minute adjustments and checking all systems. Pops was making final notations on fuel and tires and Trixie was over at the airfield, fueling her helicopter up and getting last minute weather reports and flight plans. Spritle and Chim Chim were scampering about, their curiosity and excitement levels almost to overdrive. Mom Racer was preparing sports replenishment drinks for the team because she would be at the checkpoint tent to give Speed the necessary replenishments of electrolytes during the race. Everyone was present and accounted for but Speed himself and they were all beginning to worry about where he was.  
  
Pops tapped Sparky's feet as he extracted himself from under the Mach 5. "So where's your soused up buddy this morning? Or will I have to go to the trailer to roust him out of bed?"  
  
Sparky shrugged, "Beats me. He wasn't in his bed when I woke up and got dressed. I thought he was out here."  
  
Pops scowled, "He better be where I think he is." He picked up his headset and spoke into the transmitter. "Trixie? Trixie, it's Pops. Is Speed there with you?"  
  
Trixie's voice came over both the radio of the Mach 5 and Pops' earphones. "No, Pops he isn't. Isn't he there with you?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"No, he hasn't shown up yet. And I need to go over some things with him before the driver's meeting."  
  
"Okay, Pops. If he comes over here, I'll tell him and send him over."  
  
"Good. Oh, and Trixie? Make sure that you keep your radio frequency at Channel 9 for the race, okay?  
  
"It's already set at that, Pops."  
  
Pops grinned, "Atta girl. Over and out."  
  
Pops took off the headset and when he turned he heard everyone gasp as Speed came into the area, looking as if he had spent the night in a dumpster. He looked haggard and worn and he was sporting dark sunglasses to shade his eyes and ease the throbbing in his head. Racer X, who had plied him with black coffee to get him to get up, had roused him and now he was present and trying mentally to get himself to race form. He sat gingerly on the pit stall wall.  
  
Pops snorted in derision. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. How good of you to join us, Mr. Racer."  
  
"Pops, please. Lower the volume, willya? Have a heart," Speed said with a groan.  
  
Pops scowl deepened and he got right into his son's face. "Don't be a baby, Speed! You have no one to blame for this but yourself. So if you're gonna go out and get yourself smashed, zip it up and be a man."  
  
Spritle looked at his older brother with big eyes. "Did you really get smashed last night, Speedy?"  
  
Mom Racer came and retrieved her youngest. "Spritle, leave your brother alone. I need your help with something." She shepherded the protesting youngster away as Speed rose slowly, painfully to his feet.  
  
"I gotta go to the driver's meeting then I gotta talk to Trixie," Speed said slowly as he began to head out but Pops stopped him.  
  
"The race is in less than three hours and the only thing you need to talk to her about is that," he reminded him.  
  
"I know, Pops. That's what I'm gonna talk to her about," Speed assured him as he left in the direction of the garage and the driver's meeting.  
  
Later, after the meeting, Speed was sitting in the cockpit of the Mach 5, still trying to get himself together. He was nervous as he was before every race, but he was also in a quandary as the words from Trixie's letter were imprinted in his mind's eye, taunting him and drawing him into a state of depression. He was less hung over, but his head was still slightly pounding and it added to the gloomy mood he was in. What am I gonna do? If she leaves I'll never see her again, I gotta do something!  
  
Speed's dark thoughts were interrupted by the soft floral scent he knew so well, carried over to his nostrils on the gentle zephyr coming in from the beach nearby. He turned his head and saw the petite form that was the source of the sweet aroma and his heart began to pound. He smiled tentatively as she braced her hands on the side to lean in and speak to him. He looked up at her with a bashful smile.  
  
"Hiya, Trixie. H-how are you today?" he said shyly.  
  
Trixie bit her lip nervously. Coming over to the Mach 5, knowing Speed was there was extremely difficult, and she had been dreading it since she had heard him demand to see her last night at the Racers' suite. She remembered that she had decided to act cool and professional so that's the tact she took.  
  
"Morning, Speed. I'm fine, how are you?"  
  
He shrugged and said quietly. "Okay, I'm feeling better. Guess you know I got wasted last night."  
  
"Oh?" Trixie tried to act disinterested but concern entered her viridian eyes. "I hadn't heard." She cleared her throat. "The reason I came is to tell you that the weather report looks good and the helicopter's ready to go. I'll be transmitting on Channel 9 so make sure that's the channel tuned in on your radio," she said coolly. She turned to leave but Speed grasped her hand to detain her.  
  
"I thought you were planning on leaving."  
  
Trixie stiffened as she answered. "I was but I decided to honor my commitment to Pops and the team for this race. I am not a quitter."  
  
"No, Trix, you aren't. Honey, I need to talk to you," he began but she pulled her hand away. She distanced herself from the car.  
  
"Look, Speed we've got a race to run. Anything you have to say will have to wait till the race is over so I'll talk to you then." She then turned and hurried away before he could say anything else.  
  
Speed watched her leave and marveled at her thinking as always that she was one in a million. Her decision to stick with the team regardless of her own feelings touched him deeply, deeply and more profoundly than anything or anyone else ever did. He sighed, his heart heavy as he recalled her pushing herself away and it brought a cold ache to him. He was wracking his brain as how to talk her and what to say when he did when a sleek yellow vehicle with black lines pulled into the pit stall in front of him. The tall, muscular figure with the familiar black and white mask stepped out of the car and began consulting with his pit crew.  
  
Speed watched Racer X with the same sense of familiarity he often felt when he saw the mysterious man. He always seemed to be around to help just when Speed needed him. Last night, as Speed's desperate state had him beside himself was when Racer X spoke of Speed's duties to his family and his destiny to fulfill as a racer, it was as if his older brother Rex was counseling him. He had even dreamed that Racer X called him "little brother."  
  
Speed closed his eyes and pondered about the events of the last few days. If there was any way he could have screwed things up more, he was hard pressed to find it. There was so much more to racing that getting behind the wheel and he was just beginning to get the gist of it all. He began to wonder if he were really cut out for the whole absurd circus, and thought that maybe Pops had been right all along, for him to go to college, get a degree and get into a career that had a lot less public exposure. Maybe even take up engineering to assist Pops in his car designs for the thought had occurred to him before. He could easily enroll in the local university based on his SAT scores and begin classes in the fall. Or maybe apply to the police academy-he enjoyed the times Inspector Detector had him assist in a case for he had shown an affinity for deductive reasoning and loved the thrill of the chase.  
  
But once again, Racer X's words of the previous night echoed in his head ".as the driver representing them, you have a great responsibility to them, and to Pops Motors to be at your best in every way. Others are always watching because of Pops and his reputation so now as his son, it falls on you, it's your destiny." My destiny Speed mused as he began to truly grasp the concept.  
  
His eyes then fell on his rearview mirror and he saw Phil Pistone was in his car as the Alpha pit crew did their preparations. Speed noticed with some satisfaction that Pistone was sporting a rather mottled bruise on his jaw from the scuffle they had at the PIRATES COVE and that it appeared that the Italian racer had gotten the worst of it. Speed himself had nothing more than a slight scrape on his right arm as he fell on the table when Pistone had gotten the one good shot in he had. But here it was, raceday and there was a new battle on the horizon, one that promised to be just as fierce.  
  
Pistone caught Speed staring at him and gave a mocking salute that became an obscene gesture. Speed scowled but didn't take the bait, preferring to do his fighting on the course and from the atmosphere between himself and the Italian racer it appeared that it was going to make last night's bout seem like a schoolyard scrape. He found himself getting very excited.  
  
It was then it hit Speed, like a bolt out of the blue, that he was doing exactly what he was intended to and always wanted to do. He glanced about and viewed his domain, the pit stall where the scent of exhaust, motor oil, gasoline, and fresh rubber assailed him. The sounds of powerful, turbo- charged mills, nestled in sleek aerodynamically styled bodies built for speed were calling to him, and lastly the view of his own mighty machine, the Mach 5. Speed took in the sight of the steering column with its push buttons, ready to activate the special features that made the Mach 5 the superb example of automotive technological genius it was and then felt the rush of adrenaline surge through him as he got into the game. Yeah, Speedy you're gonna do it he said to himself as he became sharply focused at the task at hand. You're gonna win this race then you're gonna win back the girl of your dreams he determined grimly as he turned the key to hear the siren song of 12 cylinders rumbling beneath his hood. No matter what that reptile Pistone says or does to rattle you, you're gonna beat him. Speed revved the motor, grinning in anticipation.  
  
Meanwhile, Trixie had gotten back to the airfield where several spotting crews for the drivers were making their last preparations before the race. She checked with the air-control desk and getting her final briefing for flight went over to climb aboard the chopper for pre-flight. She was about to enter the craft when a shadowy figure stepped from behind and grabbed her, silencing her screams of surprise and fear with a cloth over her nose and mouth soaked in chloroform. Overcome, she slumped in the arms of her assailant and her limp form was carried to a long dark limousine that waited just outside the area.  
  
Back at the track, Pops and Sparky were hovering around the Mach 5, just as the last 20 minutes before the green flag were ticking away and making final adjustments and fine tuning the vehicle.  
  
Sparky closed the hood of the Mach 5 firmly and wiping his hands on a rag went over to the driver's side and leaned in. "Well buddy, she's all set. Now's time for you to bring it home for Pops Motors."  
  
Speed saluted with a bright smile. "Consider it done, Spark. I'm gonna drive the wheels offa her."  
  
Pops grinned at his son. "Well, Speed it looks like you got yourself ready to get it done. I was worried there for a while. Good job."  
  
Speed's smile faded and he regarded his father earnestly. "Pops, I'm sorry. For everything I've done this week. I promise you, from now on I'm gonna stay on the straight and narrow. I want us to be the best Formula 1 team out there and I'm gonna do everything I can to see to it that we are."  
  
Pops wiped his eyes as he was overcome with emotion. "I love you, son and I'm proud of you no matter how this ends up."  
  
Speed blinked back his own tears. "Thanks Pops, I needed to hear that." The two generations of Racer men clasped hands.  
  
Sparky grinned then with a look of dismay perked up. "Oops, I forgot to tell Trixie something. I'll be right back." He turned to go but Speed called after him.  
  
"Hey, Spark, willya tell her something for me too?" At his request, Sparky studied him quizzically. Speed took a deep breath and continued, "Tell her that I want her to be careful and that after the race I have something important to say to her."  
  
Sparky nodded in understanding. "Done, Speed." He sprinted off for the airfield.  
  
When he got there, Sparky was surprised to see Trixie's helicopter still on the tarmac and no sign of the perky brunette.  
  
"Trix! Hey Trixie where are ya? The race is about to start." He consulted his watch. "C'mon, green flag's gonna drop in ten minutes," Sparky called as he worriedly looked about.  
  
"Maybe she got sick or something," he said aloud to himself, knowing that it wasn't like Trixie to just up and disappear. He again consulted his watch nervously. "Well, I'd better get up there and spot, Speed's about to take off." He jumped in the helicopter, started it, and headed up. 


	7. Part 7 TWO BATTLES ONE RACE

Part 7--TWO BATTLES-ONE RACE  
  
The field of cars entered in the Raytona Road Rally was lined up and ready as the time drew close for the start. Being as this was a large scale racing event, all the pomp, and fanfare that went with one such event, accompanied this one. The National Guard was there to present the colors and after which there was a benediction from a prominent area minister followed by the National Anthem sung by a lovely young girl with an incredible coloratura voice. Then the owner of the track then stepped up to the podium and said those famous words over the PA system:  
  
"GENTLEMEN, START YOUR ENGINES!"  
  
The air was filled with the unmistakable roars of pistons compressing, igniting spark plugs burning rich mixtures of gas and oxygen as all 32 cars in the field fired up, sending clouds of exhaust to the sultry air. Engines revved repeatedly as the drivers warmed them up, keeping a vigilant eye on the water and oil temperature gauges on their dashboards as they all waited for the pace car to get into position to take them around the track in a parade lap.  
  
Speed revved the Mach 5's motor to get it to maximum temperature and satisfied, drove up into position for the field. He took note from his peripheral vision that Pistone was right beside him and he grit his teeth, determined to not only beat him but crush him. He focused his eyes straight ahead, his goal to win uppermost in his mind. The pace car led the field out of the pits and onto the track, to begin the parade laps for the spectators to view all of the cars but also for the drivers to have a chance to heat up their tires to improve grip on the varied terrain they would encounter. Speed did just that, zigzagging back and forth to get his tires heated and loosen himself for the rally.  
  
The cars whistled around the track as the crowd roared its approval. A whole section began chanting "Speed! Speed! Speed! as he drove by and he grinned as he got antsy to begin. Finally the pace car pealed of to the pits as the field got the green flag and rumbled as drivers accelerated around the track one more lap before heading out on the course. The lap was completed and the cars took off onto the road, the rally begun. The crowd then became riveted to the four large screens set up around the track to monitor the road rally via television as the field thundered down the southern route through town and headed toward the outskirts, which would lead to the Neverglades.  
  
Meantime, Wiley was sitting in his limousine and with his window rolled down briefed his rogues gallery on their tasks for the race.  
  
"Now all of you I want you all out on the course. You all have your assignments and the objective is clear-the Alpha Team must win! And remember, pull the dirty trick first." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand and closed the window. He settled back into the plush cushions and turned to his left and addressed the bound and gagged figure of Trixie, who had come to and regarded the man with wide, terrified eyes.  
  
"Well, Miss Shimura, I can't tell you how pleased I am to have your delightful company to watch the race." He gestured to the television screen before them in the partition separating him from his driver.  
  
Trixie watched the field of racers as the cars were shown speeding toward the Neverglades and another screen was showing activity by Wiley's thugs on the course, placing obstacles on the road, changing road signs and other sneaky devises. Her eyes then became soft as she spotted the familiar white car with the 5 in a red circle and "M" on the hood pull into the lead. She felt her heart pound as she silently wished Speed the best, knowing that no matter their current differences she loved him and wanted what he did, which was to win.  
  
Wiley eyed her expression with interest. "I see your beau has taken the lead. He's a very talented young man." He sighed theatrically, "It's really a shame that he won't win this race." He smiled a smarmy smile at her that gave her a chill down her spine and a feeling of dread in her stomach.  
  
Wiley then reached over to remove Trixie's gag. "I'm safe in assuming that you won't scream. It would be pointless to do so because the only one to hear you would be my driver and he is not affected by anything that takes place back here. He's extremely loyal to me," he told her.  
  
Trixie took a deep breath. "Why have you done this? What do you hope to accomplish?"  
  
Wiley smiled nastily, "I'm really very upset by your refusal to join my team. So I feel recompense is due to me for the time and effort I made in trying to secure your services. So here's what will take place. We will watch the race and see who wins. If one of my drivers wins and you agree to reconsider my offer, I will let you go. If you refuse again or Speed Racer wins, you will die."  
  
"Oh!" Trixie gasped, incredulous at the man's words.  
  
"That's why you're here with me, Miss Shimura. I know that you were to spot for him and without your guidance his chances of winning have decreased. If he wins and you die, his chances in the coming season will also drop. Just call it my insurance policy.  
  
Trixie's eyes grew huge with the realization. "You're crazy!"  
  
Wiley chuckled deviously, "Like a fox, my dear. I will remove the tool that is most vital to the Go Team for their effectiveness. Thus so they will cease to be my greatest threat in winning the Formula 1 championship."  
  
Trixie shuddered as she let the words sink in. The threat hung over her like a cloud as she watched the race, her heart heavy and torn.  
  
In the meantime, Speed was winding his way into the Neverglades swamp, leading the pack. As he drove along, he began wondering why he hadn't heard from Trixie, she usually would have checked in at least once. Maybe she's still sore at me he mused but it didn't make sense, they were in a race and in a race they usually put all personal feelings aside. Frowning, he picked up the mike, pushed the button and spoke.  
  
"Mach 5 to Bluebird, Come in Bluebird."  
  
The radio sounded with some static, but no Trixie.  
  
Speed was getting annoyed. "Mach 5 to Bluebird. Answer me, Trixie!"  
  
"Speed?" Sparky's voice came over the radio.  
  
An icy chill of concern gripped Speed's belly as he heard the voice of his mechanic and not his girlfriend. "Sparky? What gives? And where's Trixie?" he demanded.  
  
"I dunno Speed. I went to talk to her before the race started and she wasn't around so I'm in her chopper and I'll spot for ya,"  
  
"I wonder why she wasn't there. She told me she was going to spot and stay with the team. I hope she didn't change her mind and leave," Speed said with his heart constricting at the thought.  
  
"I figured that maybe she got sick or something. Otherwise, she'd be here."  
  
"Yeah," Speed said grimly, worried that she might be sick. "Well, I'll check up on her when the race is over or maybe I'll radio Pops and ask him to go and look for her."  
  
"Yeah. Don't worry, Speed, I'm sure she's okay. We'll just concentrate on the race."  
  
"Okay, Sparky. So how'm I doing?"  
  
"So far so good. You're about two and seven tenths seconds in the lead. Cars 9 and 18 are right behind you but with the lead you have, I wouldn't worry," Sparky said.  
  
"Uh-huh," Speed answered absently, his thoughts on Trixie. This isn't like her he said to himself So then where the hell is she?  
  
"You okay, pal?" Sparky asked.  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah," Speed said with false calmness. "Let's win this thing."  
  
"You got it. Over and out."  
  
Speed replaced the mike on the radio and with effort got his mind focused on the race. In his concern about both Trixie and the race he forgot to turn the knob for transmissions only when he replaced the mike. He gripped the steering wheel determinedly clearing his mind but could not shake the cold feeling of dread that enveloped him.  
  
The race pressed on. Several of the field fell victim to the traps set by Wiley's goons, causing several cars to spin out or crash, putting them out of the race. Speed was not immune from the skullduggery but his special functions of the Mach 5, the Autojack, the Special grip tires, and the circular saws were able to keep him in front and rolling along. Speed's two closest competitors were however not far behind, as he headed through the String of Pearls. He contacted Sparky in Trixie's chopper.  
  
"Mach 5 to Sparky, come in."  
  
"I'm right here, Speed."  
  
"Tell me how we look, Spark."  
  
"Well, you're maintainin' your lead, but not by much. 9 and 18 are hot on your trail," Sparky informed him.  
  
"Okie-doakie. I'll keep my eyes on 'em," Speed assured.  
  
Speed and the cars driven by Phil Pistone and Racer X headed into the Billy Hills and Speed slowed down to maneuver through the winding, narrow, and rocky path. Speed called on every ounce of his conditioning and talent to drive the difficult road at a rapid pace trying to stay in the lead. But the rough terrain had slowed him down considerably, allowing for Pistone to catch up. Speed glanced in his rear-view mirror and cursed silently as the number 18 car appeared right on his bumper.  
  
The two racers continued on the road up the first mountain and down to the second, practically neck and neck, reaching the most challenging and treacherous part. It was here that the road narrowed and was flanked by an eighty-foot wall of rock on one side and a 100 foot drop on the other. The road was barely wide enough for two cars so passing would be difficult if not impossible. As they reached the most narrow part of the road, Pistone got a run on Speed and made his move, pushing past the young racer and causing two wheels of the Mach 5 to go off the edge as he pulled past. Speed gasped in dismay as he felt the car list and begin to topple so he pushed Control A and autojacked the Mach 5 over about fifty feet to an area of the road that was broader and less dangerous. But Pistone had gained a second and a half lead so for the first time in the race, Speed found himself playing catch up.  
  
Meantime, Sparky was flying the helicopter above the Flatlands and figured he would check in with Speed so he reached for the radio. He turned it on and was about to pick up the mike when a sound startled him  
  
"Blackhawk to home base, come in."  
  
A squawk of static then, "This is home base. Go ahead."  
  
"Phil's taken the lead from Racer-the kid's back about two seconds and losing time. Looks like we'll win this one handily."  
  
"Really? Well, I guess I might have to let Miss Shimura go. And I was so enjoying her company," Wiley's voice purred over the radio.  
  
A laugh then, "Where you have her, boss?"  
  
"She's here in my car enjoying the race with me. I'm trying to convince her to join our happy little group."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Poor girl just doesn't understand what is good for her. Looks like I'll have to take care of her," Wiley's voice answered in pseudo-regret.  
  
"Okay, boss. I'll see ya after the race."  
  
"Huh?" Sparky expostulated. His heart sank with the realization that the owner of the Alpha Team had snatched Trixie and that was why she was gone at the start of the race. He became even more frightened by the last remark, that they intended to "take care of her." He frantically thought as what to do. He then picked up the mike and called the pit.  
  
"Sparky to Pops, Sparky to Pops. Come in Pops, it's an emergency!"  
  
While driving toward through the Sycamore National Forest toward the Flatlands, Speed perked up when he heard Sparky's voice over the radio calling for Pops in such a panic. He listened and then reached for the mike to ask Sparky what the emergency was when what he heard next made his blood run cold.  
  
"What's up, Sparky?" Pops asked.  
  
"Pops, I just heard over the radio. The Alpha Team's nabbed Trixie."  
  
"WHAT?! Are you kidding?" Pops bellowed in disbelief.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL??" Speed roared into his mike  
  
"S-Speed, buddy, I had no idea you were tuned in," Sparky stammered.  
  
"Where do they have her, Sparky? Tell me, damn it!" he screamed.  
  
"Speed, son take it easy," Pops said shakily.  
  
"I gotta go find her," Speed snapped.  
  
"NO!" Pops exclaimed. "You're in the middle of a race, Speed. You need to focus."  
  
"The hell with the race! Trixie's in danger!" Speed insisted but Pops cut him off.  
  
"Speed, get a grip! You can't do anything but try to win the race. I'll get a hold of Inspector Detector and I'll find her, I promise. Sparky, keep spotting."  
  
"I'm hip, Pops. Consider it done. D'ya hear that, Speed?'"  
  
"Yeah, I heard," Speed replied tersely. "And I'll keep on 'cause there's nothing else I can do, but please, Pops, find her."  
  
"I will, son."  
  
"Don't worry, Pops'll find her, Speed. Let's just try to win this race, okay? Over and out."  
  
Speed gritted his teeth in fury That slime, that lowdown filthy slime. If he touches one hair on her head, I swear I'll tear him limb from limb. He jammed his foot on the accelerator, flooring it and the Mach 5 shot forward as he sped away, his knuckles prominent through his gloves as he gripped the wheel.  
  
As he approached the Flatlands, Speed really gave the Mach 5 the gun, pulling closer and closer to Pistone. Soon he had gained enough ground on the Italian racer to pull the nose of the Mach 5 to the rear right quarter panel and make a run on him. As he passed, Speed turned and shouted at Pistone, "Pistone, I know that Wiley nabbed my girl and I'm tellin' ya, if your boss hurts Trixie, you're both dead!" He then roared past.  
  
Pistone caught up to him and laughed, "Racer, you're crazy. What are you talking about?"  
  
"Don't play dumb with me Pistone! I know that your boss, that snake Wiley's got her and I'm gonna make you both sorry that you were ever born!" Speed railed.  
  
"You're a big talker, Racer. But talk isa cheap! You better win the race first, then worry about your little girlfriend. That is ifa you can beat me!" Pistone screamed back with a diabolical laugh.  
  
Speed snarled, "I'm gonna beat you, then after that I'm gonna beat your ass. And if Trixie's hurt, I'll put you in the morgue!" He pulled away as the Mach 5 retook the lead heading to the checkpoint.  
  
The checkpoint where the rally racers would get liquids and record their mileage was straight ahead and Speed came to a screeching halt while race officials leaned in and took the mileage. Mom Racer approached with a bottle of sports drink for Speed.  
  
"Here, Speed. You must be thirsty." She handed her son the bottle, which he took and downed.  
  
He handed the empty bottle back and said forlornly, "Mom, the Alpha Team's got Trixie."  
  
Mom patted her son's shoulder comfortingly. "I know, son. Pops is doing everything he can and we'll find her. You just finish the race."  
  
"I will, Mom." Speed waved as he took off.  
  
Back at the track, Pops was overseeing the crew in the pit stall and periodically glanced about as he was looking for someone. Spritle took note and asked his father, "Gee, Pops what gives?"  
  
Pops looked at his youngest son. Spritle's precociousness would usually have him right in the know of everything going on, he would put in his two cents worth whether it was wanted or not so he made sure that he kept Spritle occupied while he contacted Inspector Detector to try to locate Trixie. But now, looking at the fear in his seven-year-old's worried face, he broke down.  
  
"Spritle, we have a problem. Trixie's been kidnapped."  
  
Spritle's eyes grew huge then narrowed as he cried, "Who did it, Pops? Who'd wanna hurt Trixie?"  
  
"A very bad man who wants to win the race more than anything. And he'll stop at nothing to do it."  
  
Spritle's hands balled into fists. "Well, what are we waiting for, Pops? Let's go find her 'cause Speedy can't, he's racing. C'mon Chim Chim." His chimp chattered and nodded but Pops laid a restraining hand on the youngster.  
  
"Hold it now. We have to wait for Inspector Detector. He's gonna help us find Trixie," Pops said to the impatient boy as the tall imposing figure of the Interpol inspector came over.  
  
Spritle ran over to the officer. "Inspector Detector a bad man has Trixie! We have to save her!"  
  
Detector nodded at the boy and regarded Pops closely. "I came as soon as I could Mr. Racer. I have a dossier on Wiley, Fixer, and the Alpha Team." He proffered a manila envelope and skimmed through it, handing Pops a document. "It appears that Wiley has had underworld connections for a long time but he's trying to go legit with racing. But old habits die hard."  
  
"So how do we find where he is?" Pops asked anxiously.  
  
"Wiley likes to stay close to the team so chances are he's in his car somewhere on the track grounds and that's where he's got Trixie stashed."  
  
"Well, what're we waiting for?" Spritle demanded. "Let's go, c'mon Chim Chim." He made to run off but Pops stopped him.  
  
"Spritle, it's too dangerous for you. You stay here," Pops ordered as his youngest protested.  
  
Detector agreed, "Yes, Spritle it's way too dangerous for you. We can't let you go, you could get hurt."  
  
Spritle drew himself up and answered indignantly, "I can help find her since my big brother can't. I want to."  
  
Pops was firm. "Spritle, I said no, and I mean NO!" He turned to leave with the inspector.  
  
Spritle watched them leave and said to his monkey pal, "Well, Chim Chim, let's go. Pops saying no never stopped us before and Speedy would want us to help find Trixie. He really loves her." He scampered off with his chimp in tow. 


	8. Part 8 TO THE FINISH

Part 8-TO THE FINISH  
  
The cars remaining in the Raytona Road Rally were checking in at the crossroad and heading back to the track and the finish. Out of a field of 32, approximately 18 cars were considered out of the race, due in most to the underhanded deeds of Wiley's Alpha Team to knock them out of contention. At the head, however, there was a racing battle royale between Speed and Pistone, with Racer X not far behind.  
  
Speed was racing with a competitive fire in his belly as usual but the flame was fanned more by the fact that Wiley the owner of the Alpha Team had Trixie and was doing who knows what to her. He remembered Wiley's thug Slyme Balle and what he had done to her and that thought spurred him on further, so he could finish the race and find her. His heart was hammering as he concentrated on the race but also as he thought of her, frightened and possibly hurt keeping him in focused rage. The fury inside him had settled to a slow, burning simmer but like a dormant volcano, it would be ready to erupt and when it did, heaven help whoever took her, he would show no mercy.  
  
Pistone was in front, having retaken the lead when he beat Speed out of the checkpoint, ahead by just about two tenths of a second and getting everything he could out of his car. But the Mach 5 was keeping pace as Speed tried to position himself for a run at the Italian racer. Pistone watched out his rear view mirror and being 25 miles from the speedway and finish line decided it was time for desperate measures. He pushed a button and a pipe in the rear began pouring oil onto the road. Speed was just getting to the right quarter panel of Pistone's car for a run when his tires hit the patch of oil and the Mach 5 began to skid then spin wildly.  
  
"Ohhh!" Speed screamed as he tried desperately to regain control of the spinning racecar. He wrestled with the wheel, using every technique he knew to get himself out of the spin. The Mach 5 was gyrating faster and faster as the excessive speed had added to the centrifugal force making the spin endless.  
  
But behind him, having caught up to the battle for position between his younger brother and the Alpha Team driver was Racer X, who had seen the oil slick and activated a device on his car that was built, designed, and installed by him. Racer X was as crack with technology as his father Pops Racer was, and this device was a high-powered air compressor that blew anything from the path of his car with an amazing 1000 psi. Seeing his kid brother in a death spin, he pulled up and pushed the button, starting the powerful blast of air concentrated to the road, blowing the oil right off the surface. The Mach 5's tires found grip with the road once more and Speed turned the wheel to straighten her again.  
  
Speed took a deep relieved breath as he felt the car right itself and he turned and saw the yellow car with the black and white mask at the wheel. He waved shakily at Racer X as he began to pull up beside him.  
  
"Thanks, Racer X! You saved my life," Speed called out as they flew down the road.  
  
"Think nothing of it! It wouldn't be the same, racing without you, Speed!" Racer X bellowed back.  
  
They raced until the Mach 5 finally got a lead when Speed gunned the accelerator and pulled ahead. Racer X smiled as he said, "Go get 'im, little brother. There'll be other races for us, count on it."  
  
Meantime, back at the track, Pops and Inspector Detector were searching the parking lots for a long black limousine. Inspector Detector had gotten a printout from the local police using Wiley's license plate number and then finding out the make and model of the car, began looking for Trixie.  
  
Unknown to the two men, but intrepid as always, Spritle and Chim Chim were following behind in their best covert manner, hiding behind the parked vehicles. They were looking for a black limousine with the license plate DTY-0666, having spied on Pops and the officer when he received the printout and writing it down. Both being of small stature, they were easily concealed behind cars as they read license plates looking for Wiley's car.  
  
At the limousine, the lean form of Wiley's partner, Fixer came to the door and rapped on the window. The door opened and let him in as the two youngsters observed from a distance.  
  
"Golly, Chim Chim that guy looked kinda creepy. Let's go see what the car's license is," Spritle whispered as he led his simian friend to the rear of the vehicle. He checked the license number against the one written down on his paper. He and Chim Chim nodded at each other.  
  
"This is the car, Chim Chim! Let's go tell Pops and Inspector Detector!" Spritle said as he scampered off.  
  
Inside the limo, Wiley and Fixer, along with Trixie watched the race on the television screens in the car. Both men were pleased to see Pistone's car in the lead, heading into the Raytona city limits and toward the Raytona Speed Oval.  
  
"Well, looks like Phil's gonna bring it home for us, boss," Fixer cackled with glee. "He's really haulin' the mail."  
  
Wiley smiled in smug satisfaction. "Yes indeed, it appears that way." He watched with pride then his smile faded as he viewed what happened next. Speed and the Mach 5 who had been almost two seconds behind had caught up and passed Pistone's car like it was standing still.  
  
"Damn! That kid Racer just took the lead," Fixer whined. "What's he got under that hood anyway, a rocket?"  
  
Trixie had been watching, her eyes glued to the screen while silently cheering Speed on. Go Speed, go. Never mind me, or anything else, just win the race.  
  
Wiley sighed as he eyed Trixie almost pityingly. "Well, my dear things are not looking too rosy right now I'm afraid." He glanced at Fixer who nodded and reached in his jacket pocket to pull out a .357 Magnum with a silencer on the muzzle. He kept it at the ready as Trixie's eyes widened in sheer terror.  
  
Meanwhile, Speed having taken the lead, barreled toward the entrance of the speedway and down the backstretch at 200 mph with Pistone and Racer X close behind. But the momentum of the Mach 5 was too much as she had clean air in front to help her through the final lap to victory. Speed drove her in the inside groove through turns 1 and 2 and down the homestretch to turns 3 and 4 as Pistone drew within a tenth of a second behind. They screamed down toward the finish line.and Speed got the checkered flag by a nose to the delight of the roaring capacity crowd. The PA system blared:  
  
"AND THE WINNER BY A NOSE.SPEED RACER!"  
  
Inside his limo, Wiley turned to Trixie and shrugged apologetically. "I'm truly sorry, Miss Shimura." He motioned to the other man. "Fixer, you know what to do."  
  
Fixer grinned unpleasantly as he leveled the muzzle to Trixie's temple. He clicked off the safety and cocked it when the windows of the limo exploded and several rifle barrels were pointed at the occupants.  
  
"POLICE! EVERYONE HANDS UP AND DROP THE GUN!" The doors were wrenched open and Inspector Detector along with several state police officers reached in and dragged out the astonished figures of Wiley and Fixer. Pops leaned in and gently pulled the still bound Trixie out who burst into tears of relief.  
  
Pops untied Trixie and she crumpled against his bulk. "Oh Pops, I'm so glad to see you!" she cried.  
  
Pops enfolded her in his arms. "Hush now Trixie honey, everything's gonna be all right. You're safe now." Spritle and Chim Chim also plastered themselves to her as well.  
  
Back on the track, Speed headed for the winner's circle but in spite of the deafening roar of the crowd and the waiting celebration, his mind was on one thing, finding and rescuing Trixie. He pulled the Mach 5 into the coveted area where the IRC president waited to present the trophy to him but as soon as he killed the motor, doffed his helmet, and vaulted over the side, he was swarmed by the sea of humanity that was waiting to congratulate him. He tried to get through but found himself overwhelmed and getting frantic with worry until as if on cue, the crowd parted like the Red Sea and he spotted the mountainous bulk of his father and the petite, chestnut haired form of the person he most wanted to see. It was then as if the rest of the crowd had ceased to exist.  
  
Speed walked slowly through the path as if in a dream, his eyes unseeing everything else but the sooty lashed green eyes, the cherry mouth, the lissome figure and slim shoulders that fit so well in his arms. He picked up his pace until he began running and finally stopped in front of her.  
  
Trixie smiled at him tremulously, her eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, Speed!" was all she could say before she found herself engulfed by strong corded arms that held her so tight she could hardly breathe.  
  
Speed cradled her head against his shoulder as if he would never let her go. "Thank God you're all right. Trixie baby, I was so scared," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "If I lost you, I wouldn't want to live," he said brokenly.  
  
They were like that, suspended in time, oblivious to everything when Speed felt himself tapped on the shoulder by the president of IRC who uncomfortably cleared his throat.  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt but I do have a trophy to award so if you could follow me please?" the man asked with a smile.  
  
"Uh right. Sorry, sir," Speed replied sheepishly. He took Trixie's hand and followed the official up the podium.  
  
The official tapped the microphone to get the crowd's attention. "It gives me great pleasure in awarding the winner's trophy for the Raytona Road Rally to the driver for Pops Motor Sports Go Team, Speed Racer!" He handed the trophy to a joyful Speed with Trixie by his side beaming up at him.  
  
"Atta boy, Speedy!" Spritle crowed from the side with Chim Chim doing backflips.  
  
"Way to go, son!" Pops said in hoarse emotional voice. Mom Racer was beside him wiping her eyes.  
  
Back in the crowd, Racer X leaned against his car, arms folded and a wide grin on his face. "Get used to it, Speed because the winner's circle is your destiny." He turned, got into his car, started the motor and drove away 


	9. Part 9 EPILOGUE

Part 9-EPILOGUE  
  
The crowd at the Raytona Speed Oval was dissipating, fans heading home after the excitement and thrills of the race. However, the winner's circle continued to be a beehive of activity with race officials, sponsors, and the press buzzing about Speed, Trixie, and the Mach 5 as the winner of the Raytona Road Rally. He stood there, fielding questions, getting his picture taken and giving interviews, all the while holding onto Trixie's hand for dear life with both of his like he was afraid she would disappear. The press took note of this as they recorded the young couple's closeness on film.  
  
"Congratulations on a great race, Speed."  
  
"Are you ready now for the Grand Prix?"  
  
"Is this young lady your spotter?" the reporter from The National Insinuator asked slyly.  
  
Speed eyed the man evenly as he smiled and drew Trixie even closer. He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her as the flashbulbs popped. "Yes, gentlemen, Trixie Shimura is my spotter and the best pilot around but- -" he paused for emphasis and spoke in a loud clear voice, "she's also my girl."  
  
The press corps all made notations as the cameras continued clicking. But the reporter from the gossip rag continued with, "We were under the impression that you were intimately involved with the supermodel, Debbie Donne."  
  
Trixie bristled slightly but Speed gave her a reassuring squeeze. "That was false information. Trixie Shimura is the only woman I'm intimately involved with," he announced firmly.  
  
"I see." No further inquiries were made.  
  
Trixie gazed up at Speed affectionately. "Thank you," she said, sotto voce.  
  
He grinned and winked at her and he gave her another squeeze as more pictures were taken.  
  
Soon the crowd from the media dispersed and Inspector Detector, Sparky, and the rest of the family approached Speed and Trixie.  
  
She glanced at Sparky and said with gratitude, "Thanks for taking my place, Sparky."  
  
Sparky waved his hand dismissing her. "Think nothing of it. But please don't make it a habit to disappear before a race."  
  
Speed wrapped his arm around Trixie. "Don't worry, Sparky. I'll see to it that she doesn't." He grinned down at her.  
  
Pops came over and clapped Speed on the shoulder. "Terrific job, Speed. We're so proud of you, you did a bang up job."  
  
"Thanks, Pops but Racer X helped me out when Pistone tried to make me crash, putting oil on the road. He had his car blow the road dry, he's really the hero," Speed admitted as he glanced around. "Where is he, anyway, I want to thank him."  
  
Everyone shook their heads as they too tried to find the enigmatic racer. As usual, he had mysteriously vanished at the end of the race. Inspector Detector then stepped forward and spoke up.  
  
"Well, you'll all be pleased to know that we've arrested Wiley and Fixer for Trixie's abduction and the International Racing Commission is pressing charges for the blatant violations to the rules. Between their jail sentences and being banned from the circuit, you should have no more problems with them."  
  
Speed answered, "That's a relief. Wiley won't be threatening Trixie anymore."  
  
"Threatening Trixie? When did he threaten you?" Detector asked, his eyes on her.  
  
She sighed and said, "I got a note from Wiley just before we came down here for the race. He told me that he intended to get rid of me and destroy the Go Team. While I was in his car he said that if he removed me, he'd have succeeded in eliminating the Go Team as a threat for the Formula 1 championship."  
  
"Why didn't you say anything, Trixie?" Detector inquired.  
  
Trixie looked at Speed so he answered, "Trixie was afraid, sir. The note said that there'd be dire consequences if she contacted the police. You remember that Wiley tried to have her killed for refusing to join up with him. As it was, she almost quit the Go Team because of the threat but I talked her out of it." He took her hand in both of his and squeezed it fondly.  
  
"I was afraid that he'd try to hurt Speed or the Racers so I didn't tell anyone but Speed," she said earnestly. "I couldn't let anything happen to them because of me."  
  
The family all gazed upon her with open affection and gratitude as Speed brought her hand up to plant a kiss on it. Inspector Detector awarded them with a rare grin and everybody was happy but Spritle who appeared extremely annoyed.  
  
"Well, I must be going now. Congratulations to you all and a special thanks to Pops and Spritle for your help in finding Wiley's limousine. Good work," he said, clapping his hand on the bereft youngster's shoulder.  
  
"Well, I'm glad somebody's giving me credit," he said with a pout.  
  
Trixie glanced at Speed and then knelt before Spritle. "I'm sorry I didn't thank you before but thank you, Spritle. I know that if it weren't for you and Chim Chim, Inspector Detector wouldn't have found me in time." She reached and kissed the boy on the cheek, who blushed then wiped his cheek vigorously.  
  
"Yechh! Girls always gotta get all mushy!" he complained as everyone burst into laughter.  
  
Later, as the sun was setting Speed was walking with Trixie along the deserted trackside clutching her hand in both of his, just savoring having her near. Since his reunion with her, he hardly let her out of his sight, making sure he was nearby at all times, as if she could be snatched away from him again. They sat on the pit wall to talk.  
  
"Really, Speed. I'm okay now. You don't have to hold on all the time," Trixie protested weakly but Speed shook his head stubbornly.  
  
"No way. Till we leave and head home, I'm gonna make sure you're not alone for a minute. So deal with it." He smiled down at her. "Besides, I have something I want to say to you."  
  
Trixie examined him quizzically. "What is it?"  
  
Speed took a deep breath and with her hand still clasped in both of his gazed deeply into her eyes. "Trix, I'm so glad you're okay. When I was racing and I found out that Wiley nabbed you, I was scared out of my mind 'cause I couldn't do anything to try to find you."  
  
"You had a race to win, Speed," she said quietly.  
  
"Yeah, I know. But I also found out that as important racing is to me, you're more important. I almost left the course and came to look for you but Pops stopped me and said he'd look for you. That was the only thing that kept me in the race otherwise I'd have ditched the whole thing to come after you."  
  
Trixie's heart caught. "What are you trying to say to me?" she asked, holding her breath.  
  
Speed pinned her with his cobalt orbs. "I'm saying that I know we've only really known each other for about a month but I think--- no, I know I'm in love with you." He reached and brushed her hair back out of her eyes. He then put his head down as he continued, "I-I know that you've submitted your resignation from the Go Team and I'm asking you to please reconsider."  
  
Trixie's eyes became wide as saucers as she digested what he said. She had assured Mom Racer that she was staying with the team regardless so at first she did not understand what he meant. She then realized that she must have left the letter in the trailer and Speed must have seen it.  
  
She shook her head in self-recrimination but Speed mistook the gesture for a refusal and his heart sank like a stone as he tried to think of what to say to convince her to stay but his thoughts were interrupted by a loud feminine cry.  
  
"Yoo hoo! Speed!" Debbie Donne called out as she pulled up in her red Triumph, screeching to a halt right where he and Trixie were sitting. He groaned inwardly while he felt Trixie stiffen beside him.  
  
Debbie parked the car and jumped out to approach the duo. "I've been looking all over for you, I've wanted to congratulate you for winning the race." She looked shyly at Trixie. "Hi, Trixie."  
  
Trixie nodded an acknowledgement as Speed said coolly, "Thanks Debbie but you need to know that I'm very disappointed that you said all those things to the press about us that aren't true."  
  
Debbie lowered her head in shame. "I-I know. I'm really sorry for that, Speed but I did it because I needed some publicity. My career has been flagging lately and I thought that if I could get some press, I'd get it going again. And then Wiley approached me and paid me to get you away from Trixie."  
  
"Oh!" Trixie exclaimed but her eyes widened as she saw the fury in Speed's visage.  
  
His eyes narrowed dangerously as he rose to his feet. He spoke in a very low dangerous voice, "Debbie, you have exactly ten seconds to get the hell out of here before I go to the phone and tell the police just what you said. Now move!"  
  
Debbie needed no further prompting. She scooted back to her car, fired the motor and peeled away in a cloud of dust. Speed shook his head in disbelief as he sat back down beside Trixie.  
  
"Can you believe her? I'm not a stupid guy but sometimes I just don't use the brains I have," he muttered to himself in disgust. He held his head down as gentle hands were placed on his shoulders. He glanced up into warm spring meadow eyes.  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Speed. Everybody makes mistakes," Trixie said softly.  
  
"Yeah, but lately I've been cornering the market. And because of it, you're leaving." Speed turned his head away but Trixie took his chin in her hand and turned his head to her.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Huh?" Speed said, his eyes widening.  
  
"I said, I'm not going anywhere," Trixie repeated giggling.  
  
"B-but I read your letter to Pops," Speed protested. "You wrote one, didn't you? Either that or I was really crocked last night and hallucinated it."  
  
Trixie nodded, "I did write a letter of resignation and planned to give it to Pops but your mom talked to me and talked me out of it."  
  
Speed said brightening, "She did?"  
  
"Uh-huh. She told me some things and convinced me to stay. Besides, I'm not and never have been a quitter."  
  
Speed took her face in his hands. "No, baby, you aren't a quitter. And I'm honored to have you on my team and in my life." He leaned down to capture her lips in a slow lingering kiss as they were bathed in the warm tropical rays of the setting sun.  
  
END 


End file.
